


TEDDY BEAR TALES 3: Puppy Love

by roryheadmav



Series: THE TEDDY BEAR TALES [3]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Highlander - Freeform, M/M, Non Consensual, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-07-06
Updated: 2000-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryheadmav/pseuds/roryheadmav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Methos and Duncan settle into domestic life with their son Sean Richard, Duncan begins to hear strange voices inside his head. Who could it be? And who are these evil Immortals stalking the Scot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNING! This is the THIRD installment of THE TEDDY BEAR TALES. Quite an amazing thing, to tell you the truth. Given all the very bad stuff surrounding these stories, months back, I swore to myself that I wouldn't write a Teddy Tale ever again. But then, one day, I was watching the World Wrestling Federation show "Raw". As wrestler valet Debra McMichael entered the ring, commentator Jerry "The King" Lawler opened his mouth and screamed a word that is now a part of every wrestling fan's vocabulary. And, no, I am NOT talking about baby dogs!!
> 
> Funny how these tales are the most difficult to get out my head once inspiration strikes. Constant major RL distractions -- these are what THE TEDDY BEAR TALES are.
> 
> If you're one of those brave souls who read "Dream On A Winter Solstice", you know the drill. However, if you're new to THE TEDDY BEAR TALES, here are the things NOT TO EXPECT in this story: "Highlander" canon AND normal human physiology.

 

** CHAPTER ONE **

“WE’VE GOT PUPPIES!”

         Duncan MacLeod looked up from the pot roast he was making in the kitchen. He eyed the three figures sitting on the bed with suspicion.

         Methos was watching television, with their six-month old adopted son Sean Richard and the ever-loyal Teddy sitting on his lap. There was a rapt expression on Sean’s face as he gazed at the images on the screen, suckling lustfully on his pacifier.

         “What in heaven’s name are you two watching? A dog show?”  Duncan queried, unable to contain his curiosity. “First time I ever heard an announcer get so enthusiastic about puppies.”

         Methos shrugged. “Nope! My little boy and I are watching a REAL MAN’s show.” In a very accurate impersonation of the announcer’s voice, he said, “WWF Smackdown!”

         At these words, the Highlander’s mouth gaped open. “You’re letting our son watch Professional Wrestling? God, Methos! Sean’s just six months old!”

         “Well, I tried changing it to the Cartoon Network, but he started crying. I guess he just loves wrestling. I mean, just look at the way he stares at Debra.”

         Wiping his hands on a dish towel,  Duncan strode towards his lover and his son. His eyes widened like saucers at the sight of the young woman entering the wrestling ring. Clad in tight, obscenely short shorts and black leather platform boots, her black T-shirt was tied below her more than ample bosom.  Duncan couldn’t help but grimace, seeing the design on her tee – two large, weepy puppy dog faces that even further enhanced her fine assets.

         “Puppies, my ass!” Snatching the remote out of Methos’ hand,  Duncan turned off the set before the Old Man could protest.

         Then, Sean Richard gazed up at him, a woeful look in his eyes, lower lip trembling.

         To the Highlander’s shock, the baby burst into gut-wrenching wails, his pacifier falling on the bed spread. Hastily,  Duncan opened the set once more. Immediately, Sean Richard stopped crying, focusing all his attention on the TV.

         “I told you,” said Methos in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, wiping the child’s tears away with his handkerchief.

Duncan snorted in disgust. “Something must be done about your viewing habits, Methos. This isn’t a good program to watch for a kid.”

         “Well, I didn’t choose it. I was just channel surfing when Sean started making these funny noises when I hit the wrestling show. When I changed it, like I said, he started crying, but he stopped when I went back to this channel. You should have heard how much he gurgled when he saw that lady named Tori. Sean was actually drooling.”

         “Once it’s finished, I want you to switch to another channel, Methos. I mean, a baby watching wrestling?”

         “Not to worry! I’m a parent. ‘WWF Smackdown’ is rated PG anyway so I’ll give him the best guidance I can offer. After all, I am 5,000 years old.”

         “That’s what I’m afraid of,”  Duncan muttered under his breath as he went back to the kitchen.

         A few minutes later, he heard that same announcer call out with even greater enthusiasm, “HERE COMES THE HOOO TRAIN!”

         “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” the Scot hissed in disgust, as he prepared Sean’s bottle.

&lt;HOOOOO! PUPPIES!!!&gt;

Duncan ’s head snapped up. “Methos, stop that!”

         “Stop what?” the ancient called from the bed.

         “Saying that word!”

         “What word?”

         “Puppies! It’s degrading to women!”

         “I didn’t say anything!”

         “Really! I heard you as clear as day! You said ‘Hoooo! Puppies!’“

         “And like I said, I didn’t say anything. You must have heard the TV announcer.”

Duncan gave his lover a dubious glance. “Are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

         “Positive.”

         Scratching his head, the Highlander went back to his chores.

&lt;GROWL! PUPPIES! NICE PUPPIES!!&gt;

         Furious,  Duncan declared, “You did it again!”

         “Did what?” Methos queried once more.

         “That’s it! Change the channel now!”

         “But what about Sean?”

         “I don’t care! Sean shouldn’t be watching wrestling in the first place.”

         Taking the remote, Methos told the baby, “Sorry about this, little guy. Mama’s orders.”

         As the ancient changed the channel,  Duncan heard him cry out, &lt;NO! NOOO! NOOOO!&gt;

         “God, Methos! You’re so melodramatic!” the Scot exclaimed in exasperation. “It’s just a bloody wrestling show!”

         “I’m not doing or saying anything!”

&lt;STOP! STOP THERE! NICE SHOW!&gt;

         “Well, you seem to have finally found an appropriate show to watch.”

         “Huh?”

         “What’s on?”

         “‘Baywatch.’“

&lt;‘BAYWATCH’! PUPPY HEAVEN! YUMMY!!!&gt;

         Exasperated, the Scot stormed towards Methos, quickly picking up Sean and Teddy. Pried from his vantage position before the TV, the toddler burst into tears.

         “If you’re just going to ogle at breasts on TV all night,” he said furiously, “you might as well do it without my son.”

         Methos was utterly bewildered as he stared at the Highlander’s back. “What did I do?”

         But  Duncan clearly heard his lover complain, &lt;I WANT PUPPIES!&gt; Worse, the ancient even started a sprite pep squad chant of &lt;PUPPIES! PUPPIES! PUPPIES!&gt;

         Taking the baby bottle on the kitchen island, the Scot shook it angrily. “If you want puppies so much, go over to Joe’s. Maybe he’d let you watch the Playboy Channel.”

         “ Duncan , I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” the Old Man said placatingly, following his lover. Winking, he teased, “Do I detect a tone of jealousy in your voice? You know there is only one set of puppies for me.” Methos eyed the firm mounds of the Scot’s chest, clearly discernible under the sweater he wore. “And, man, they’re looking mighty good!”

         The Highlander gaped at Methos in shock, as he tried, in vain, to get Sean to drink his milk. Agitated as he was over the ancient,  Duncan didn’t notice that the baby was desperately pounding the bottle away with his fists.

         “Methos! You’re absolutely obscene!”

         “Well, it’s true,” said Methos defensively. “I like the way your chest has swelled these past few months. Nice pecs! Real nice cleavage!”

&lt;COW SWILL! YUCCKKK!&gt;

        Before  Duncan could utter a vile retort, Sean struck a tiny fist at his chest. At once, pain shot through his body, that he almost dropped the baby. Luckily, Methos grabbed both of them in time.

         Seeing how pale his lover looked, the Old Man asked worriedly, “Are you all right, Mac?”

         “I’m fine,” the Highlander replied, though his voice sounded rather strained. Clutching a suddenly silent Sean close to him, he mumbled, “I’m sorry, Sean! Did I scare you? It’s all right! It’s all right!”

         “I think you’d better lie down.” Methos led his lover and son back to the bed. He fluffed up the pillow on the headboard, then gently urged  Duncan to lie down. The Highlander pressed the nipple of the bottle to Sean’s lips, which the child quickly took. His big brown eyes gazed up at him in worry.

         When his lover and son were finally settled in, Methos asked, “What happened to you, love? And don’t tell me it was nothing.”

Duncan sighed. “I haven’t been feeling very well these past few months. I’m going to see Anne tomorrow.”

         “I was a doctor once. I could give you a thorough check-up. I’ve been keeping myself updated with medical journals over the centuries.”

         “Thank you, Methos, but I’d rather not. It’s...” There was such reluctance on the Scot’s face. “It’s rather embarrassing.”

         “And you can tell her and not me.”

         “Please don’t be hurt,” said  Duncan . “I...I just want a doctor and a woman’s opinion on this. I swear I’ll tell you what we talked about when I get home.”

         Methos smiled at his lover reassuringly. “I know you will. Well, do you want me to take Sean with me to the university tomorrow? There’s a great daycare facility on campus. Besides, he’d be a hit with my students.”

&lt;YES! YES! YES! SEE PUPPIES!&gt;

Duncan frowned. He heard that exuberant cry, but he swore he didn’t see Methos’ lips move.

         There was a mental link between us when I was still Angel, thought  Duncan , remembering those happy, yet tragic, times. Am I hearing Methos’ thoughts? Does the link still exist?

         Glowering at Methos, the Highlander concentrated hard. &lt;NO PUPPIES!&gt;

         But instead of eliciting a response from the ancient, it was Sean who started wailing, flailing his little hands and feet in an obvious tantrum.

         “What the... Methos!”  Duncan stammered, not knowing what to say.

         The Old Man touched the baby’s bottom. "It looks like my little man made a doo doo. Come on, Sean. Papa’s going to clean you up.”

         “Methos...did you...” The Scot couldn’t finish what he was going to say. He could only raise his hand to his lover, who went straight to the bathroom with Sean.

         “What do you say, Mac?” Methos called from the bathroom.

         “About what?”

         “Shall I take Sean with me to the university tomorrow?”

         “Uh, no,” the Highlander replied, still confused. “Amanda’s in town. She called up earlier, and she said she’d be happy to babysit. She’s really looking forward to seeing Sean.”

         Methos peered from the doorway. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

         “Methos, she’s 1,000 years old. I’m sure Amanda knows how to take care of a baby.”

         The ancient shrugged and went back inside. “If you say so. Did you hear that, Sean? Your Auntie Amanda’s going to be babysitting you tomorrow.”

         The Highlander never expected he would hear a reply to that announcement.

&lt;WHOOOPIE! AUNTIE 'MANDA!! REAL NICE PUPPIES!!!&gt;

 

         “Hello! Hello! Hello!” Amanda cooed to the tiny figure inside the crib. “What a handsome little boy you are, Sean! Thank God you look like  Duncan instead of Methos!”

         “Amanda, he’s adopted,”  Duncan reminded her.

         “I know, but you look so much alike, except for the hair, of course.” The pretty thief gave the Scot a side glance. “Are you sure this isn’t your kid from one of your old flames?”

         There was a pout on the Highlander’s lips. “You know we can’t have kids.”

         “Well, yeah, but... I mean, the resemblance is uncanny.” Amanda laughed in delight, seeing Sean raising his hands eagerly to her. “Would you look at that? He wants me to carry him.”

         As he set Sean’s things on the table,  Duncan peered into the crib. Indeed, the baby was reaching out to Amanda. However, his playful brown eyes were riveted to the crevice between the thief’s breasts. To his chagrin, Sean was practically drooling from a corner of his mouth.

         As Amanda lifted the child in her arms,  Duncan asked discreetly, “Er, Amanda, don’t you have anything more...modest...to wear?" He pointed to her plunging neckline.

         “I’m going on a date with someone once you get back,” said the thief, cradling the baby. The Scot frowned, noting the beatific expression on Sean's face as he laid his head on Amanda's breasts. “His name’s Nick Wolfe. He’s a detective. You’ll like him, Mac. Nick reminds me so much of you. I hope you don’t mind my clothes. It’s such a hassle to keep changing.”

         “Well, you don’t know Sean,” said  Duncan pointedly. “He’s prone to tantrums, and he’s picky with his milk.”

         Again, there came that voice, &lt;COW SWILL! YUCCKKYYY!&gt;

         Before he could ask Amanda if she heard that, the thief declared, “All Sean needs is a woman’s touch.” Amanda smiled warmly at her erstwhile lover. “But you’re doing really good with him, Mac. You and Methos. I never expected that you would...”

         “End up together?”  Duncan rubbed Amanda’s arms lovingly. “I never expected it either. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.”

         “Oh, I will!  Duncan ...” Amanda began hesitantly. “Are you happy now? When you left us in  Paris , you were so sad.”

Duncan nodded his head. “I’m very happy, Amanda. I finally have everything I want in my life. I have Methos, and I have a son.” As he glanced down at the baby in the lovely thief’s arms, he exclaimed in dismay, “SEAN!”

         Sean has his face pressed to Amanda’s breast. He was rooting eagerly on a tiny prominence, staining her shirt with his drool. The other hand was opening and closing on her breast.

         “Oh, Amanda, your shirt!” the Scot declared, taking some wipes. “I’m so sorry!”

         “Hey, it’s all right! I could have this washed and dried in no time. Babies are known to do this, you know. Now, you better hurry or you’ll be late for your appointment with Anne.”

         “But...but...”  Duncan stuttered as Amanda pushed him towards the door.

         “We’ll be fine, Mac,” she assured him. “I’m sure we could find something to occupy our time.”

         "Are you sure you two are going to be okay? I forgot to tell you that there are guys coming over to install security cameras."

         Hearing the last, Amanda looked at the Scot curiously. "Security cameras?"

         "Methos' idea."  Duncan shrugged. "I think he wants to be sure that Sean and I will be safe."

         "Don't you think he's being too overprotective of you? I know how much you hated my being overly concerned about you sometimes."

         "And I appreciate it, even though I did chew your head off many times for this. But I understand now. I can't do everything alone."  Duncan smiled wanly. "I guess I learned that lesson the hard way."

         Amanda saw the sorrow in the Highlander's eyes. Rather than let him dwell on the pains of the past, she opened the door and said in reassurance, "Go on, Mac. I'll take good care of Sean for you. Don't worry!"

Duncan kissed Amanda on the lips. "Thank you. But are you certain..."

         Pushing him outside, the thief exclaimed, "Oh, won't you just go on?"

         The door was closed in his face before he could say another word.

         As he went off to his appointment,  Duncan heard someone declare joyfully inside, &lt;AUNTIE 'MANDA! VERY NICE PUPPIES!! GROWWLLL!&gt;

 

Duncan was sitting uncomfortably in Anne Lindsey’s clinic, clad only in a hospital gown. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Anne.”

         “Come on,  Duncan !” laughed the doctor. “You’ve done so much for me and Mary. It’s my turn to do something for you. Besides, what are friends for? So tell me. What can I do for you?”

         Shyly, the Scot lowered the top of his gown, baring his chest.

         “Oh, my!” Anne exclaimed in surprise. Gently, she palpated the rounded pectorals, eliciting a wince from the Highlander. “Does it hurt?”

         “Not as much as it did yesterday,”  Duncan replied. “It’s been like this for the past six months. My chest would just swell up and then recede after a few hours. Lately, it’s been hurting a lot more, especially my...”

Duncan timidly gestured to the swollen nubs. Anne ran her fingertips lightly over the rose-hued areolae.

         “Well, there is some cracking in the skin. It’s rather dry, you see,” she said in a clinical tone. “But something’s bugging me.” Taking a nipple between her fingers, Anne warned, “Let me squeeze this a bit.”

         A gasp escaped  Duncan ’s lips as pain shot through him. Anne frowned, seeing the pearly white drop she had drawn from the tip. Taking a glass slide, she smeared the drop on it and looked at it through her microscope.

         “I don’t believe this!” Anne found herself declaring after a few minutes.

         “What is it?” the Highlander asked worriedly. “What’s wrong with me?”

         Anne spun around on her stool, a perplexed expression on her face. “ Duncan , you know, I would really like to run tests on you, but you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

         “Of course not! But...Anne, please tell me. Am I sick or something?”

         “No, you’re not sick.” The good doctor got to her feet, a hand on her waist, not knowing exactly what to say. “It’s just that...well...what you’re feeling right now. I had those same...symptoms...after I had Mary.”

         “I don’t understand.”

         Anne smiled at him reassuringly, though  Duncan could tell she was genuinely confused. Raising the stirrups of her examination table, she said, “I want you to lie down, Mac, but I want you to put your legs here.”

         “I don’t think I would!” said  Duncan indignantly. “I know what those are for.”

         “Mac, please?”

         Grumbling to himself,  Duncan did as he was told, a blush going up his cheeks in embarrassment. He had never felt so terribly exposed in his entire life. The Highlander could only stare at a spot on the ceiling.

         “How did you get these scars,  Duncan ?” Anne suddenly asked from her position between his legs.

         “Scars? What scars? You know I don’t have any scars.”

         “Well, you do now – two of ‘em in fact. There’s one small scar right here on your perineum.” The Scot felt the doctor draw a small line between the base of his scrotum and his ass. “Then, there’s a bigger one here.” Anne drew another line starting an inch above his navel and ending above the curls of his crotch. “I didn’t see them at first. You really need a good light to do so.”

         “Anne, I really have no idea how I got those scars, and why I still have them. I haven’t fought with any Immortals since...”

         Anne finished it for him. “Since Aric and Cyrus. I know. Adam has been so protective of you because of them, because of what they did to you.”

         “Except for the.... I know Aric and Cyrus did not cut me, or anything like that. They just...violated...me. Anne, please! What’s the matter with me?”

         The lovely doctor helped him to sit up. “To be honest, I don’t know what to think. This totally goes against everything I learned in medical school.”

Duncan begged her. “Surely you must have a hypotheses or an impression or something. I’m Immortal, so definitely there will be differences with ordinary humans. Anne, you must tell me what’s on your mind.”

         “Well, for starters, the scar on your abdomen,” Anne declared, shaking her head in disbelief. “It looks like a midline incision.”

         “A midline incision?” the Scot’s brows cocked up. “Like a Caesarian section?”

         Anne nodded. “As for your chest, the reason why it’s swollen like that is because you’re lactating.”

Duncan ’s jaw dropped in shock. The implication of it was too much for his mind to take. He remembered waking up the morning after the winter solstice. All that blood...

         “What are you trying to tell me, Anne?” the Highlander asked, his voice trembling.

         Anne was very gentle as she took his right hand in her grasp. “ Duncan , I think you had a baby.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**CHAPTER TWO**

 

“I think you had a baby.”

         Anne’s words to him echoed inside his mind as the Scot walked home. In his arms, he carried a bag of fresh diapers and a can of baby formula for Sean Richard. It also contained a breast pump and a bottle of lanolin.

         “To ease the cracking of the skin,” Anne had told him. “It will make your nipples supple.”

         I had a baby? Duncan thought for a thousandth time. I gave birth to a child, and I don’t remember? How could I have forgotten something so important as this? Good lord, what did I do to my baby?

         He was in that troubled state when he arrived at the loft. Opening the gate of the lift, he was greeted by a gentle humming sensation at the back of his neck. His eyes narrowed, seeing the grizzled, yet handsome, stranger playing with Sean on the couch. A Pre-Immortal.

         “Who are you?” the Highlander demanded, snatching the baby from him. “What the hell are you doing with my son?”

         Before the stranger could reply, Amanda emerged from the bathroom. “Oh hi, Mac! Good you’re finally home. This is the friend I was telling you about.” She waved a hand to the man, who slowly stood up. “Duncan MacLeod, I’d like you to meet Nick Wolfe. Nick, this is Mac.”

         “Hi!” Nick greeted, a tentative smile on his face. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m sorry if I surprised you there.”

         Duncan shook his hand, smiling as well. “I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.”

         “Well, if I’ve got a kid as great as Sean here,” Nick began, playfully ruffling the baby’s hair. “I’d probably react the same way you did.”

         Amanda pursed her lips together. “Nah, I don’t think so. Mac has got the mother hen routine down to a T. I, on the other hand,” she added, rubbing her hand briskly over her bosom, “don’t think I could survive the experience.”

         “I’m sure you can’t,” both men commented at the same time that they burst out laughing.

         Feigning hurt, the pretty thief exclaimed, “I didn’t come here to be laughed at. Sean’s more of a gentleman than either of you.”

&lt;YES! SEAN! REAL MAN BABY!&gt;

         Duncan frowned at that remark. “Did you hear that?”

         “Hear what?” Snaking her arm around Nick’s, Amanda urged, “I’d really like to stay and ask how it went with Anne, but we really gotta run. By the way, those security guys came over and installed the cameras.”

         “Oh, yeah! Sure!” said the Highlander, a bit relieved that they were leaving. “Thanks for taking care of Sean for me.”

         “That kid of yours is going to grow up to be a lady killer, Mac,” called Amanda, as Nick closed the gate of the lift. “That fiendish little mouth of his! It’s so hot!”

         Duncan strode towards the lift, brows knitted together in suspicion. “What did you two do while I was gone?”

         But the lovely Immortal simply waved her hand, almost guiltily it seemed to the Scot. “Bye, Mac! Bye, Sean!”

         &lt;Bye! Auntie 'Manda!&gt; came that regretful voice once more. &lt;I'll miss your puppies!&gt;

         Duncan stared down at the baby in his arms. Sean blinked up at him innocently.

         “Naaah!” the Highlander exclaimed, shaking his head. “It couldn’t be!”

 

         When Methos arrived from the university that night, Duncan was sitting on the bed, shirt open, doing the rather difficult and embarrassing task of drawing milk from his chest with the breast pump.

         “Hello, Honey! I’m home!” Methos called out cheerfully.

         In his surprise, Duncan dropped the breast pump on the floor. Luckily, the ancient was distracted by the baby playing on the carpet to notice Duncan pick up the fallen pump with haste and hide it, and the bottle he was filling, inside the cabinet.

         “And how’s my little boy?” cooed Methos, kissing Sean’s chubby cheek. “Had a good time with Auntie Amanda?”

         To Duncan’s surprise, Sean burst into delighted giggles, drooling from the corner of his mouth.

         “I’ll take that as a big yes.” Methos turned to his lover, who was buttoning up his shirt. “How did your appointment with Anne go?”

         “Maybe we could talk about it after dinner,” the Highlander suggested, going to the kitchen area.

         Noting the troubled expression on his lover’s face, the Old Man gave him a reassuring smile. “Okay, after dinner then.”   


         After they had eaten, Duncan placed a very drowsy Sean back inside his crib, and then proceeded to wash the dishes. Methos wanted to help, but the Scot told him he could manage. The ancient couldn’t help the warm smile that formed on his face, watching his lover puttering around the loft. He never thought of himself as the type to enjoy domestic bliss. With Duncan, however, he was happy and contented. It seemed like the world came to a standstill for them – no nasty Immortals crawling out of the woodwork, no demons to torment them. It was just he, Duncan and Sean. To Methos, Duncan turned out to be a multi-faceted diamond, so many things inside that beautiful exterior – the Boy Scout who became his friend, Angel the child man who became his lover, and now his gentle mate, mother (for lack of a better term) to Sean. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

         When he opened the cabinet to get a clean shirt, something fell into his grasp. Methos looked at the thing he held in his hand curiously, as well as the half-filled bottle he found inside.

         Having finished the dishes, Duncan took a deep breath, still unsure as to how he was going to break the news to his lover. Turning, he paused at once, seeing the intense perusal Methos was giving to the thing he held in his hand.

         “Duncan?” Methos couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. “What’s this thing?”

         The Highlander strode towards his lover, taking the bottle and the pump, and placed them on the kitchen island. “Uh...they’re mine, Methos. Anne told me that I would need them, and she was right.”

         “Yes, but what is it?” the ancient asked slowly.

         There was such reluctance on Duncan’s face as he turned around to face the older man. Grimacing, he squeaked, “It’s...uh...it’s a...breast pump.”

         Methos’ brow cocked up. “A breast pump? Now why would you be needing a breast pump?”

         “You know what it’s used for, Methos.”

         “Yes, but I want to know why you need it.”

         With a sigh, Duncan plopped down on the bed, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “Because I need to draw the milk out of my chest, so it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

         As Methos looked on, Duncan took a nipple between his fingers and squeezed the tip, a white drop forming. The ancient felt like he had been hit on the head with a baseball bat.

         The Highlander then told him what had transpired in Anne’s clinic, not leaving anything out.

         “It’s not possible!” Methos sputtered in shock. “YOU’RE A MAN!”

         “Believe me, I was just as shocked as you are,” the Scot replied. “Anne wanted to do some tests, but I didn’t want her to.”

         Methos gave his lover a dubious glance. “Duncan, would it be all right if I examined you this time?”

         The Highlander stole a quick look at the baby in the crib. Seeing Sean sound asleep, he nodded his head, loosening his shirt completely and yanking down his slacks. He lay quietly on the bed while Methos placed the lamp on the stool beside him and examined his lover thoroughly. Many times, he felt the older man trace the scars on his belly and between his legs.

         When the Old Man was through, he buttoned Duncan’s shirt up for him and helped him to sit up. Plopping down beside the Scot, he scratched his head and stammered, “I don’t know what to say.”

         Duncan’s voice trembled as he spoke. “Methos, do you remember how you found me the day after the winter solstice, covered with blood. I told you I had a wonderful dream, but I couldn’t remember what it was, no matter how hard I tried. I knew it was something important, but it just vanished from my head.”

         “Duncan...”

         A single tear trickled down the Scot’s cheek. “What if I had a baby, Methos? OUR baby!”

         “Mac, you don’t know this for sure. Yes, we’re Immortal. However, I don’t think our physiology is that different from humans.”

         “Well then, how do you explain the scars? How do you explain the fact that I’m lactating? Tell me! When you were a doctor, did you conduct any tests on Immortals or on yourself?”

         “No, because keeping such records is dangerous to us. It would give proof that we truly exist.”

         “So even you don’t know. But, Methos, you examined me. Can you give me another explanation for what’s happening to me?” Noting the ancient’s silence, Duncan exclaimed, “You can’t, can you? Because you yourself think that I had a child!”

         “Duncan, please!”

         “Methos, it’s been six months! What did I do to my baby? Is that the reason why we Immortals are foundlings? When  we have children, we abandon them and forget? My God! Someone could have taken my baby! Maybe my child is in a foster home somewhere!”

         Seeing the Highlander growing increasingly agitated, Methos hugged him tight. “Duncan, stop it! I beg you! I don’t like to see you acting this way!”

         “But Methos, our baby...”

         The ancient’s voice was choked with emotion. “If there was a baby, if our child did exist, maybe...maybe he or she was not really for us. You know the way of Immortals. Maybe it was meant for us to forget.”

         “Then why is this happening to me? If we were meant to forget, why is my own body telling me to remember? My heart is telling me that I have a child!” Duncan breathed in deeply, hoping to calm himself. “What if a century passes? An Immortal comes to challenge either of us. What if he kills one of us, or he dies at our hands? What if that Immortal happens to be our son or our daughter? God, Methos! If this is the way of our kind... I’ve always hated being Immortal! I hate it even more now!” The Scot gripped his lover’s hands with fierce determination. “I’m going to find my baby, Methos.”

         “Where will you start looking, Mac?” the ancient pointed out to him. “Like you said, it’s been six months! You don’t even remember what you did during the winter solstice. Lord only knows where our child is.”

         “I’m not going to sit around while my baby’s out there!”

         Methos shook his head. “You must think this over very carefully, love. I must admit this matter has given me cause for concern. I have serious doubts about this whole thing. I’m afraid that you’re about to make a big mistake, Duncan.”

         Duncan gazed strongly at the ancient. “I already made a big mistake by abandoning and forgetting my own child. I have to find my baby, no matter what it takes.”

         For a moment, they looked at each other in silence.

         “No matter what it takes,” Methos repeated. Then, he sighed in surrender. “If that is what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

         The Highlander flung his arms happily around his lover’s neck. “Oh, thank you, Methos! Thank you so much!”

         Methos, however, gently pushed him away. “There is one thing I want to ask though. What about Sean?”

         Duncan’s brow knitted in a frown. “What about Sean?”

         “If you’re going to go on this quest, I want to know what you plan to do about Sean.”

         “Of course I’ll take care of him. If I’m going out, I’ll find someone to babysit. It’s that simple.”

         “No, it’s not that simple. Sean is six months old. He needs his parents. He needs us.”

         “But what about our baby? He needs us too, even more than Sean. Sean...he’s not even our real son.”

         That last statement chilled Methos’ blood. He never expected to hear those words from Mac. But then again, the Scot did have the tendency to regress to the petulance of Angel under extreme duress. “We adopted him, which makes him our son, though not by blood.” Methos cupped Duncan’s face in his hands. “I’ll forget you said that, Duncan. I know how you could be when you get this obsessed about something. That’s how you got Sean in the first place. Duncan, you fought so hard to get him. In your search for our baby, who may not even exist, you might...forget...that there’s a wonderful child right here who needs you just as much. Duncan, if you should neglect Sean.... We might lose two children instead of just one. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

         There was startlement in those dark brown eyes. “Methos, I swear I won’t neglect Sean. I don’t know why I said that. But believe me, I do love him. I’m not going to lose Sean.”

         Despite the assurance in Duncan’s voice, Methos was not entirely convinced. “I hope so. I really hope so.”

         Duncan leaned forward, a teasing smile on his face. “What about you, love? I haven’t been neglecting you now, have I?”

         Though he didn’t really want to change the subject, Methos felt a perverse tingle go through his body at that suggestive query.

         “Well, maybe you have been neglecting me.” He made a tiny space between his thumb and index finger. “Just a little bit.”

         “What can I do to make up for it?” Duncan let his shirt slide down, baring his right shoulder.

         Seeing the swell of the Scot’s chest, the ancient grinned. “Your...condition...has opened quite a number of possibilities.” His deft hands pulled his lover’s shirt off his shoulders completely, trapping Duncan’s arms that the Highlander’s chest was bared to him so tantalizingly. “Do you know that I also had a great dream the night of the winter solstice?”

         “Really? What did you dream about?”

         “That we had the most fantastic sex. Your nipples were deliciously ripe. I suckled on you like a babe. Damn if I still couldn’t taste the sweetness of your milk on my tongue.”

         “Maybe you’d like to feed on me,” Duncan giggled.

         “You know? That’s a very good idea!”  Methos winked at the Scot. “Are you sure you won’t mind? I mean, maybe you should think about breastfeeding Sean.”

         “Methos, I’m Immortal. Sean is not. Who knows what my milk could do to him!”

         “Good point!” The Old man let his finger touch the tip of a swollen tit. “Do you know that I could make you come just by playing with your sweet little nipples?”

         “With your millennia of experience,” began Duncan, eyeing the finger that was flicking his taut nub, “I don’t doubt you could.”

         “Care for a practical demonstration? Your tits are perfect for this. They’re just like tiny cocks, very sensitive, not to mention ripe for the plucking.”

         Duncan laughed lightly at that remark. “Are you sure you don’t mean ‘ripe for the sucking’? Besides, even if I say no to your practical demonstration, I know you’ll still do it. You’re as pushy as a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman.”

         “But my wonderful mouth could put any stupid ole vacuum cleaner to shame.”

         “Really!” said the Scot dryly.

         “You asked for it!” Saying this, Methos pushed the Highlander onto the pillows, closing Duncan’s legs with his knees, but leaving the Scot’s manhood free. When the ancient’s mouth enveloped a swollen areola, Duncan gasped as his cock immediately jutted up to attention.

         The Old Man grinned as he gazed down at the impressive erection. “Sorry, my friend. It’s not your turn tonight.”

         "Oh, for heaven’s sake, Methos!” complained Duncan, trying to grab his lover’s hand. “Please touch me!”

         Instead, Methos pinned the Scot’s wrists to his sides. “Getting impatient, my sweet? I’ve only just begun, and I don’t even have to touch ole Bonny Portmore here to make you explode!”

         “Methos, you are absolutely and truly obscene!”

         The ancient growled teasingly. “I love it when you nag me like a mother hen.” Then, licking the tip with his tongue, Methos took a deep breath and sucked on the Highlander’s tit, drawing a blissful whimper from Duncan’s lips. Tasting the sweetness of the Scot’s milk, a broad, hungry grin forming on his face.

         “Yummy!" he exclaimed, licking his upper lip. “Just the way I remembered it!”

         Methos went upwards and pressed his mouth to the Highlander’s lips, allowing Duncan to taste his own juices.

         “It is sweet,” mused the Scot, a shy smile quirking up the corners of his mouth.

         “I want more!” cried Methos, as he dove down on Duncan’s chest. “MORE! MORE! MORE!”

         Feeling that ravenous mouth on his nipples once more, Duncan groaned, “Is that all you’re going to do? What about my needs?”

         With a soft purr, the ancient muttered, “Imagine these sweet little tits are your cock. Imagine me letting my talented mouth slide up and down, up and down your hard rod.” As he nipped the bud, he whispered, “Imagine my throat squeezing on your shaft, the same way my lips are squeezing your nipple.”

         Moaning, the Highlander closed his eyes, letting Methos’ words inflame him, that he began thrusting his aching erection upwards, engaging in an erotic sparring with his lover’s silken blade, in time with the ancient’s sucking on his tits.

&lt;zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz&gt;

         "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, you old fogey!"

         Methos simply hummed in reply, engrossed with what he was doing.

&lt;zzzz........??????&gt;

         Duncan’s eyes snapped open in surprise, feeling that sleepy, unspoken query inside his mind. “Methos, did you say something?”

         The ancient, however, mumbled in the negative, his mouth still plastered to the gems of the Scot’s chest.

         Thinking it was just his imagination, Duncan allowed Methos’ passions to consume him.

&lt;????????..........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&gt;

         Duncan felt that much stronger mental tap. Assuming that the link between him and the ancient was open once more, the Scot projected amorously, &lt;Suck me, Methos! SUCK ME HARD!&gt; Already, he could feel himself on the verge of an explosive climax.

&lt;HUNGRY!!!&gt;

         That shout caused Duncan to come forcefully and blood jetted from his nose.

         Methos felt his lover sit up abruptly, and was stunned to see the blood on the Highlander’s face. “Mac, are you...”

         “Sean!” Duncan cried out as he buttoned up his shirt, almost tripping over his slacks. Kicking his slacks away, he ran to the wailing baby in his crib.

         Picking the child up, the Scot cradled him in his arms, cooing softly, “What is it, Sean? What’s wrong? Are you hungry? There, there now! Papa’s got some milk for you.” Swiftly, Duncan went to the kitchen counter and grabbed the bottle that was in easy reach. Pressing the nipple to the baby’s lips, Sean clamped down on it and began suckling greedily.

         Duncan saw Methos approaching from the corner of his eye. Standing before his lover and their adopted son, the ancient wiped the blood from the Scot’s nose with his handkerchief.

         “What happened, Mac?” he asked. “You scared me half to death!”

         “I’m sorry,” said Duncan, shrugging his shoulders. “I felt the link between us open again. I guess you loved feeding from me. You were actually screaming inside my head.”

         “I don’t understand.”

         “Methos, you screamed the word ‘Hungry!’ inside my mind.”

         “But Duncan, I...”

         The Highlander, however, bussed the Old Man lovingly on the cheek. “It’s all right, Methos. You can feed on me anytime you want. I love your talented mouth better than that old breast pump.”

         “But...but...”

         “Could we let Sean sleep with us?”

         “Uh...yeah, sure!” Methos stammered in confusion. “I don’t see why not.”

         A few minutes later, the two men lay sleeping on the bed, the baby between them. Sean Richard was snoring contentedly, the milk bottle dangling from his mouth.

         Duncan was totally unaware that the bottle contained the milk he had drawn from his chest.

 

         "You never told us your old friend was quite a looker!" Caleb Saunders asked his mentor, who sat hidden in the shadows.

         "I never knew he had these...inclinations," the dark figure replied in genuine surprise. Sickened, the dim outline turned away. "He must have placed a spell on him. This isn't possible! I know him!"

         "It doesn't look like he's under any spell," chimed in Max Barrows. "He's so damned hot, I can tell you that!"

         Saunders replayed the surveillance tape on the monitor to a particular portion. Lasciviously, he licked his upper lip. On the other hand, Max, who was closest to the monitor, ran caressing fingers over the delectable image on the screen.

         "Those cameras were not meant for you to indule in your perversions!"

         There was a glint of metal in the darkness. Then a sword was brought down on the table with a loud clang, causing the two men to whirl around and face feral green eyes.

         "We're here for the other one!" the dark figure reminded them. "If you dare harm a single hair on MacLeod's head, I swear I'll kill you both!"

         "Can't we have a little fun on the side?" Caleb complained like a petulant child. He gasped as the sharp point of the sword nicked his throat.

         "We stick to the plan. I want you to distract MacLeod while I take his boyfriend's head."

         "How do you want us to do that?" queried Max.

         A smile formed on those full lips. "All we need is perfect timing and the perfect bait. We already know what the perfect bait is. Those security cameras will tell us when the time is right to act. Then, we'll use our bait to draw MacLeod away from his lover, and then Methos shall be mine."

         Turning away from the two men, the dark figure burst into evil laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

 

**CHAPTER THREE**

 

         Methos sat on the couch, eyeing the Scot with growing suspicion, as Duncan hastened to put the ancient's papers inside his satchel. To the Old Man, it seemed as if the Highlander was eager to get rid of him.

         There was a bright, charming smile on Duncan's face as he handed his lover his things and a small lunch bag. "I've made you some turkey sandwiches. Hope you like them." Noticing the stare the older Immortal was giving him, he asked, "Why are you looking at me that way?"

         "MacLeod, you're up to something," said Methos pointblank.

         "I don't know what you mean," Duncan answered in turn. It took great effort on the Scot's part not to look away from his lover's sharp gaze.

         "Remember what I told you last night...about Sean?"

         "Methos, I'm not going anywhere! I'm not leaving Sean alone! I swear it! Don't you trust me?"

         The ancient shook his head, not entirely convinced. "To be honest, I'm not sure I could trust you. Duncan, your promise... It's important not only to me, but also to Sean. If you should break your word...."

         It was Duncan's turn to be angry. "I gave you my word, Methos. I won't leave Sean. I won't neglect him." The Highlander turned his back on the ancient, crossing his arms over his chest. "Damn it! You don't know how difficult this is for me!"

         "Do you think you're the only one who's having a hard time? I'm just as affected by this...this news as you are. The possibility that we could have a child out there... It's so difficult for me to...accept it." Methos saw the shock in Duncan's eye, when the Scot gave him a side-glance. "Please try to understand me, Duncan. What I said...I'm not trying to make it look like our missing child, if he or she truly exists, is unimportant. But I have Sean to consider here." Methos then admitted, "Before, it was unthinkable for me that we should adopt a child." He set his things down and placed his hands on Duncan's arms. "But you made me see the importance of having a child in our lives. I love Sean, Duncan! I love that little boy you fought so damned hard to keep! MacLeod, PLEASE! I don't want to lose him!"

         Duncan couldn't speak at that heartfelt entreaty. Instead, he gazed down and grudgingly nodded his head.

         "I'll tell you what," the Old Man began to suggest. "During my lunch break, I'm going to hire a detective to find our missing child. Is that all right with you?"

         To this query, the Scot just nodded once more.

         Methos' shoulders drooped in sorrow. "Oh, Duncan! I wish...."

         Duncan pulled away from his lover, going towards Sean who was playing in his crib. "Go on, Methos. You'll be late for your first class."

         The ancient sighed in surrender. "I'll try to come home early."

         "We'll be fine," the Highlander assured him, though his voice sounded flat. "Don't worry about a thing." Duncan didn't look back until he heard the gate lowered and the drone of the descending lift.

         Sean was rocking on his back when he felt something wet fall on his cheek. There was a glistening drop at the tip of Teddy's nose. The child gazed up to see his adoptive parent trembling all over, hands grasping the edge of the crib tightly. Tears were streaming down Duncan's cheeks.

         "Why won't Methos understand how I feel?" the Highlander wept bitterly. "Sweet Jesus, I want my baby back!"

         Noting his distress, Sean started making funny noises. When the Scot still ignored him, his face scrunched up and he began to cry.

         "Oh, Sean!" Duncan sobbed, picking the baby up in his arms. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you. Papa's just got a lot on his mind right now! Please don't cry!"

         But the baby wouldn't stop crying. The Scot was about to pick up Teddy when he paused. There was something strange about the bear's face. Duncan swore that Teddy was giving him an intense look of disapproval.

         "Don't give me that look, Teddy!" Duncan declared, feeling a bit guilty. It seemed like the bear was peering into his soul. "You're just like Methos! Why am I talking to you anyway? You're just stupid toy!"

         Saying this, the Highlander grabbed the bear and hurled it angrily across the room.

         "Professor MacLeod?" a voice asked tentatively.

         Duncan whirled around to find his student Jenny Carver standing hesitantly before the lift. Swiftly wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, he smiled. "Oh hi, Jenny!"

         "Sorry I'm late!" the teenager replied. "I forgot some books and I had to go back home for them."

         "It's all right! Jenny, this is my son Sean."

         Jenny patiently took the weeping child and rocked him to a tearful, hiccupy silence. "Hello, Sean!" Turning to the Scot, she declared, "He looks so much like you, Professor. It's hard to believe he's just adopted."

         "That's what a lot of people keep telling me." Duncan showed Jenny where the baby's things were kept and gave her the number of his cellphone. "Are you sure you can take care of him, Jenny? Sean's quite a handful!"

         "Professor, I have four younger brothers. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of Sean. You don't have to worry about a thing."

         Duncan smiled, feeling reassured. "Thanks, Jenny!"

         "Uh, Professor?"

         "Yes, Jenny?"

         "I was just wondering," the teenager began with hesitation. "Actually, the whole class wanted to know..." Jenny grinned shyly. "Professor, we miss you a lot -- your history lessons, how you made the past come alive for us. Professor Pierson told us you'd been ill."

         "I was ill, but I'm fine now," Duncan said to her gently. "Right now, I'm trying to cope with my current status as a family man."

         "'Family man'?"

         The Highlander laughed at this query. "All right, as a mother!"

         Jenny pouted. "You and Professor Pierson! You don't know how many hearts you broke on campus when word got out that you were an item."

         "And how did you feel about it?"

         "Well, I was a bit disappointed." The teenager shrugged. "But then again, who am I to get in the way of your happiness? After all, you do love each other." Giving her teacher a pointed look, Jenny queried, "Do you?"

         "Yes," said Duncan, smiling. "Very much!"

         Jenny shook her head. "Jeez, I talk too much, don't I? What I wanted to say was... I mean, the whole class asked me to tell you... I do hope you'll come back to us soon."

         The Highlander thought for a second. "Uh...Jenny, I won't lie to you. I'm in the middle of a family crisis right now. But I promise I'll be going back to the university once it's over."

         "Promise?" the teenager asked hopefully, her eyes twinkling.

         "I promise." Duncan then leaned down to kiss Sean, who was reaching out to him desperately. "Take care of my little boy for me. I'll be back in a few hours."

         "I promise," Jenny chimed in, rocking the baby in her arms.

         As Duncan headed straight for the lift, he heard a plaintive cry, &lt;Don't go! Please don't go!&gt;

         The Scot glanced up briefly to look at Jenny, but his student was waving and smiling at him reassuringly. It was Dean who was gazing at him, with desperation in his eyes, arms raised to him.

         No, it couldn't be! thought Duncan is disbelief, going inside the lift and closing the gate.

         The noise of the descending elevator drowned out the baby's cries and the begging mind voice, &lt;Don't leave me, Mama! Don't go!&gt;


	4. Chapter 4

 

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 

_         "No! Methos, please!' _

_        Duncan was sitting in his rocking chair, unable to move even a single finger. Methos knelt before him, arms wrapped around his waist. The ancient's face was pressed to his chest, tongue and lips ravenously suckling the nectar from his breast. _

_        Biting his lower lip, the Scot turned away as the tears began to flow. "Stop it, Methos! I beg you! Our baby! I must feed our baby!" _

_        "There is no baby, MacLeod," Methos answered flatly. "There's only you and me. When are you going to accept that?" _

_        "That's not true!" cried Duncan, trying hard to twist his body out of the chair. But he remained glued to his seat. "Our baby's out there! I know he's hungry! Please let me up! Our baby needs me!" _

_        Suddenly, there was a circle of light not far from him. Standing in the middle was Teddy. The bear was carrying a tiny, moving bundle in his arms. _

_        "Duncan, why are you so stubborn?" Teddy asked sadly. "Don't you know that your child is a lot closer than you think?" _

_        "Teddy, I don't understand!" Duncan sobbed. A pain-filled cry escaped his lips as his lover bit his nipple. _

_        "There is no baby, MacLeod," the ancient repeated, "because he isn't mine!" _

_        Duncan gazed down at the shadowy figure, startled. "What are you saying?" _

_        Eyes widening in horror, the Highlander gasped at the sight of those two leering faces. _

_        "It's our baby, MacLeod," hissed Aric. _

_        "OURS!" Cyrus exclaimed, laughing wickedly. _

        "NOOOO!" shouted Duncan as he sat bolt upright from his bed.

       At his cry, Sean Richard, who was napping beside him, woke up and started to wail. The Scot quickly cradled the baby in his arms.

       "Ssshhhh! I'm sorry!" murmured Duncan, unmindful of the tears leaking from his eyes. "Everything's fine, Sean! I'm here!"

       The reassuring tone in the Highlander's voice caused the child to fall silent, looking up at Duncan with wonder in his eyes. As Duncan kissed his cheek, Sean raised his hand and brushed away the glistening tear. Then, the baby yawned, smacking his tiny lips.

       "Still sleepy, little guy?" Duncan whispered, kissing the tip of the baby's nose.

       Hoping to put Sean back to sleep, the Scot rocked the child gently, softly singing "Amazing Grace." For awhile, Sean watched Duncan as he sang, mesmerized. Soon, however, he began to nod off. Cuddling close, Sean drifted back to sleep.

       Duncan smiled wanly as he kissed Sean on the brow. Carefully, he laid the child on the bed.

       Gazing down at Sean, the Highlander felt the tears well up once more. "Why couldn't you be my baby?" Duncan said wistfully. "Sean, why couldn't you be my real son?"

       The past three weeks had been fruitless. Duncan's clandestine searches revealed nothing. None of the orphanages he visited would divulge any information. The Scot knew that the gap in his memory held the answer, but he wouldn't dare go to a psychiatrist to help him get it back. There was no telling what he would say when under hypnosis. It would easily reveal him as an Immortal, and he knew he couldn't let that happen. Already, Duncan was close to banging his head on the wall in frustration, and the possibility that the jarring of his brain would help him to regain his memory.

       Methos, on the other hand, did what he swore he would do. He hired a detective. With no clues, absolutely nothing to go on, however, the man also came up empty-handed. Duncan did not want to pry, but he suspected that his lover was starting to question his sanity.

       There were times, as he sat silently in the rocking chair with Sean in his arms, that Duncan would find Methos looking at him with such sorrow. Sometimes, the Scot feared that the ancient would discover his secret treks into the city, but it was a risk that Duncan had to take. He was determined to find his missing child.

      The nightmare he just had entered his mind. It's been months since he last thought of those two Immortals who had violated him.

     _"It's our baby, MacLeod,"_ Aric and Cyrus had told him in the dream.

       A distant memory returned to Duncan -- of a trying period in his and Methos' life, when he was caught in a delusion of a child with golden hair.

     _"He couldn't be my son, Duncan,"_ the Highlander remembered those cruel words the ancient had uttered. _"He's not my son!"_

       Duncan wrapped his arms around his body as he began to shudder. "No, it's not true! This baby is ours! Not Aric's or Cyrus'! Methos is the father of my baby!"

       Yet, doubt filled his heart, and he also felt fear. What if he did find the missing child? What would happen if the baby didn't belong to Methos?

       The thought of Methos' rage filled him with dread. Just the memory of the Old Man's fury when he discovered that his Angel had given his innocence to two strangers caused a chill to go up his spine.

       Suddenly, the phone began to ring, and Duncan's heart leaped in surprise. Before its ringing could wake up Sean, the Highlander quickly ran to answer it.

       "Hello?" he said, wiping the tears from his face.

       "Mac? Hi! It's me, Nick Wolfe," the voice on the other end replied. "Do you think we could meet some place? I think I may have something for you."

       "Couldn't you come here? I'm taking care of Sean right now."

       "Afraid not. I'm in the middle of a case."

       Duncan scratched his brow. "All right! We could meet at the donut shop near the police station. Just give me an hour. I'll see if I could find a babysitter."

       Putting down the receiver, the Scot tried to call Jenny Carver. To his dismay, however, all he got was an answering machine with a message from Jenny, saying that she's out doing research in the library.

       The Highlander was totally at a loss. He glanced briefly at Sean, sleeping on his bed. However, the urge to hear what Nick Wolfe found out was too difficult to resist. Duncan made up his mind to go, deciding to return home quickly before the baby wakes up.

       The Scot laid pillows around the child in case he might fall. Taking his car keys, Duncan was about to leave when his eyes fell upon Teddy lying on the floor. With a sigh, he picked up the bear and placed it beside Sean.

       "Watch over Sean for me, Teddy," whispered Duncan. "I swear this will take only a few minutes."

       The Highlander was about to buss the bear on the head, but something made him step away from the bed. Before he could change his mind, Duncan fled from the loft, not once looking back at the baby and the toy.

       Duncan couldn't explain it, but he swore that Teddy had given him a fierce glare with his shiny black button eyes.

       The Highlander found Nick Wolfe waiting for him at a corner table of the donut shop. Wolfe stood up and shook Duncan's hand.

       "Mac, I'm really sorry about this," Nick said sincerely as they sat down. "Were you able to find a babysitter?"

       "Uh, yeah," Duncan lied between his teeth. "Well, do you have something for me?"

       Afraid that Methos would find out about his search for their missing child, the Scot decided to enlist the aid of Amanda's friend, Nick Wolfe. Considered one of the best detectives in the precinct, Duncan was greatly relieved when the man accepted, even though he was loaded with cases of his own.

       "To be honest, I don't know if this would mean anything," Nick reluctantly admitted. "Remember I had nothing to work on, just a 'feeling' you have that you have a child."

       "I know, and believe me, Nick, I would do anything to help you out. But my mind's a total blank. I just can't remember what happened to me that winter solstice."

       "Well, it seems someone may have seen you that night."

       Duncan felt his jaw drop. "Someone saw me? Who...who was it?"

       "Name's Bill Potter. He's one of the derelicts living near the docks."

       "What did he see?"

       "The man was drunk, Mac," Nick pointed the fact out. "He may have been seeing things. Besides, these guys would say anything for a buck."

       "NICK, PLEASE! TELL ME!"

       Seeing the desperation on the Immortal's face, Nick breathed in deeply. "Potter said he was drinking that night when he saw two men walk by, wearing white robes. Potter told me that the first man looked like a ghost -- he was white all over, not just his robes. His hair, his skin were all white. His eyes, on the other hand, were dark hollows, like they've been gouged out of its sockets. He didn't get a good look at the other man at first, but it was obvious to Potter that he was in terrible pain. The ghost had to help him walk. Potter saw them enter an abandoned warehouse.

       "Suddenly, there were flashing lights and he heard screams, but he was too scared to check it out. Two hours later, the lights went out inside the warehouse. Then, Potter saw the ghost come out, carrying the other man in his arms. He looked dead, that was what Potter said. Anyway, the two guys walked under the streetlight and, this time, he was able to get a good look at the other man. Long brown hair, rather pretty for a man. There was a lot of blood on his robes. Potter found it funny, but he said the guy had a Teddy Bear sitting on his chest."

       Duncan pressed his hands to his lips in shock. "My God!"

       "That's not the end of it." Nick looked the Immortal straight in the eye. "After the two men left, Potter heard a baby crying inside the warehouse. Too frightened to go inside, he called up 911 instead. When an ambulance arrived, he hid in the shadows. The paramedics came out carrying a baby. Potter had no idea whether it was a boy or a girl. That was the last he saw of the child."

       Silent tears were falling from the Highlander's eyes. "This man...Potter? He doesn't know where the paramedics took the baby?"

       In reply, Nick sadly shook his head.

       Duncan cupped his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. "Sweet Jesus! Who was that man I was with? How could I have abandoned my own baby?"

       "It could just be a coincidence," suggested Nick. "Mac, I mean. You're a...."

       "A man?" A sigh escaped Duncan's lips. "But I'm also an Immortal. I have no idea of what my body is capable of doing. But there is one thing I'm damned sure of."

       "What's that?"

       "That my body is telling me that I had a baby, a baby I had completely blanked out of my memory. What Potter told you... It only confirms what I already know. It still doesn't change the fact though that I still don't have my child in my arms."

       Nick laid his hand on Duncan's shoulder. "I promise you, Mac. I won't stop until I find your baby."

       The Scot leaned wearily against the wall of the elevator. It had taken him more than an hour to return to DeSalvo's in heavy traffic. As he quickly raised the gates, he felt his blood run cold, hearing Sean's cries.

       "Oh, Sean!" Duncan started to say as he strode inside the loft. "I'm so sorry I..."

       The Highlander froze right in his tracks at the sight of those furious hazel eyes. Methos cradled Sean Richard in his arms. To Duncan's horror, he saw that there was a darkening lump on the baby's forehead.

       "Sean!" cried Duncan as he made a step towards the baby. But Methos twisted his body out of the way.

       "Don't you dare touch him!" The ancient's voice spoke of menace.

       "Methos, I'm sorry! I got a call about our missing child. It was only for a few minutes but I got stuck in traffic."

       Duncan's head snapped to the side as Methos slapped him on the cheek. The Scot gazed at his lover in stunned silence.

       "I decided to come home early, because I wanted to help you find our missing baby. I even arranged for someone to take care of Sean while we're out. But what did I find when I arrived? I found Sean lying unconscious on the floor and you gone!"

       "Methos, I'm sorry! I did try to find a babysitter but..."

       The ancient shouted, "You promised me you wouldn't neglect Sean! Damn it, Duncan! Sean could've died!"

       In his shame, Duncan wished there was a hole in the ground that could swallow him up. Already, the tears were streaming down his face. "I'm sorry!" was all he could mumble over and over again. "I just wanted to look for my baby. It won't happen again! I swear!"

       Methos shook his head in despair. The Highlander saw that the older man was weeping as well. "Duncan, I am trying so hard to believe you, that you did indeed have our child. But now? I'm starting to think that it's all just a delusion. Your leaving him alone like this... This is not the first time this has happened, hasn't it?"

       "It's not a delusion! I have proof! Why don't you go and ask Amanda's friend, Nick Wolfe. He's been helping me. Nick said that he found a derelict near the docks who recognized me, that I was with a man who looked like a ghost, that we went inside an abandoned warehouse, and when we came out, I was covered with blood, and then he heard a baby crying inside, and…" Seeing the anguish in Methos' eyes, Duncan exclaimed, "I'm telling you the truth! Ask Nick! He'll tell you everything!"

       "Whether our child exists or not, it is not the issue here!" Methos snapped back. "What in God's name possessed you to leave Sean all alone?"

       "But he was sleeping when I left."

       "That's not an excuse and you know it! Angel, no parent in his right mind would leave a baby alone!"

       "Stop calling me that! I am not a child!"

       "And yet you still act like one!" Methos gritted his teeth. "Remember I told you that if you persist in this lunacy, we could lose two children instead of just one."

       Duncan felt a chill run up his spine. "What are you saying?"

       "I'm taking Sean back to the orphanage," said Methos flatly.

       "Methos, no! You can't do this!"

       "We're not capable of taking care of a child. You're obviously not a good parent for Sean!"

       As the ancient took a step forward, the Highlander blocked his way. "Please, Methos! I beg you! Don't take Sean back! I promise I will take good care of him!"

       But Methos snarled. "Get out of my way, MacLeod!"

       "For God's sake, Methos, please give me another chance! If you bring Sean back to the orphanage, I may never get him back!"

       "You should have thought of that before you left him alone!"

       In desperation, Duncan pulled out his sword and pointed the sharp tip at the Old Man. "I won't let you take him away from me!"

       "So, are you going to kill me now?" Methos declared in a challenging tone. "If you kill me, my Quickening might hurt Sean!"

       "I don't care!" cried the Scot, reaching for the baby with his left hand, not relinquishing his hold on his sword. "You're not going anywhere with my child!"

       Before Duncan's fingers could touch the baby, Sean brought his little arm down, effectively pounding the Highlander's hand away.

       "Sean?" he gasped in surprise. To him, the baby seemed to be glowering at him in fury.

_        &lt;I HATE YOU!&gt; _

       "What?" Duncan gazed helplessly at Methos. There was only hardness in the ancient's eyes.

_        &lt;I HATE YOU!&gt; _

       Those three words lanced through his heart with such force that the Highlander dropped his sword on the floor and he fell to his knees. Blood flowing from his nose, he gripped his lover's jacket tightly.

       "Methos, please don't do this to us!" he sobbed bitterly. "I swear I'll do everything you tell me to do! Please don't hate me! You and Sean! I love you both so much! I cannot live with your hate!"

       "God, you're out of your mind!" Methos exclaimed in disgust, and he walked around the weeping Highlander and stormed out the door.

       Duncan knelt in stunned silence, his mind unable to comprehend what had just taken place. There was a throbbing ache in his chest as milk dribbled from his nipples, wetting his shirt.

_        &lt;I HATE YOU!&gt; _

       The pain of those three words lanced through his heart once more. No longer capable of holding back the agony of his broken heart, Duncan allowed his mind to shut off and he collapsed to the floor and into blessed darkness.

       "Mr. MacLeod? Mr. MacLeod! Duncan! Oh, please wake up! Duncan!"

       Duncan moaned, trying to get his head and his body to work. When he slowly opened his eyes, at first, all he could see was the dimming light of the setting sun outside the window. Then, turning in the direction of the voice, he beheld a very familiar face.

       "Mrs. Cortez?" he mumbled as the social worker helped him to sit up.

       "Thank God!" Teresa said in relief. "I thought you were dead!"

       Realizing at last whom he was talking to, Duncan gripped her arms. "Teresa, I can explain everything! Please hear my side first! Believe me, I didn't want to do it! Please don't take Sean away from me!"

       Teresa shook her head in utter confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not here to take Sean away from you. You know I would never do that."

       "What?" Even the Scot was just as bewildered. Clutching his forehead, he groaned. "Jesus, my head hurts like hell! If you're not going to take Sean, what are you doing here?"

       At this query, the social worker started to weep and she stammered, "Mr. Pierson came to my apartment with Sean. He told me you were very ill, and that he was having trouble finding a babysitter. Adam begged me if I could take care of Sean for a few days, maybe take him to see Katie and the other kids at the orphanage, until you're okay. Since everyone in the orphanage just adores your son, I promised Adam that I would take care of him. But..." Teresa burst into tears.

       "Teresa?" Duncan whispered, dread filling his heart. "What's wrong? Is it about Sean? Did the orphanage get him back?"

       "No, it's not the orphanage! God, I wish it was the orphanage who had taken him! I would have easily gotten him back for you!"

     _Taken?_ The Scot felt his blood run cold. "What happened? Who took my son?"

       "I don't know! I was about to leave for the orphanage when my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, two men in ski masks barged inside. I tried to stop them, but one of them knocked me out. When I woke up, Sean was gone."

       "Did you call the police?"

       "No, not yet. I thought I'd tell you first."

       Suddenly, as if on cue, the phone began to ring. They looked at each other for a second, before Duncan stood up and hastened to answer it.

       "MacLeod," he said into the receiver.

       "We have your kid," a voice answered on the other end.

       "What do you want? I swear if you harm Sean in any way, I'll..."

       "Is it them?" asked Teresa, but Duncan waved her to silence.

       "All we want is the pleasure of your company, Highlander. If you want your kid back alive, go to the old factory beside the sulfur refinery. No cops. We only want you."

       Before the Scot could say more, he heard a soft click and the line was cut off.

       "It's the kidnappers, isn't it?" Teresa exclaimed. "What do they want?"

       Duncan quickly picked up his coat, tucking his sword within its folds. As an afterthought, he also took Teddy from the bed. "I'm going to get Sean, Teresa."

       "No! You must not! You're not well! We must call the police! They might kill you!"

       "No cops. They said they'll kill Sean if I bring the police."

       "Duncan, don't do this!" the social worker cried, clinging to his arm.

       The Highlander smiled at her reassuringly. "Sean is my responsibility. I promise I'll bring him back. Please call Adam and tell him what happened. Tell him I'm at the factory near the sulfur refinery."

       Before Teresa could argue, Duncan hurried out the door. Not knowing what else she could do, the social worker grabbed the phone and started calling Methos.

       Methos was driving aimlessly through the city streets, having just come from Joe's, when his phone rang.

       "Pierson, here!" he replied, a bit irritated at having his troubled thoughts interrupted.

       A garbled voice answered in turn. "Methos! So nice to hear your voice again!"

       Methos frowned, unable to identify the speaker. He knew that whoever was on the other end, he was using an electronic device to mask his voice. "Who is this?" he demanded.

       "Who I am doesn't matter. What you need to know is that I'm holding your lover and your son prisoner. If you want to see them alive, meet me at the metalworks at sulfur refinery east of Lions Gate Bridge. It's beside the old factory."

       "How could I be sure you have them?"

       "How could you be sure I don't?" There was wicked laughter. "I'll be waiting, Methos! If you know what's good for your boyfriend and your little boy, you'll come!"

       Methos cursed under his breath as he switched off his phone. Putting his car in high gear, he headed straight for the refinery.

       Teresa slammed the phone in frustration, unable to get through.

       Instinctively, she made the Sign of the Cross, clasping her hands together.

       "Please, God!" she prayed. "Keep them safe!"


	5. Chapter 5

 

** CHAPTER FIVE **

       The Highlander arrived at the abandoned factory in fifteen minutes flat. Inside his T-Bird, Duncan hesitated for a moment, assessing the situation. It's been a long time since he's had to fight someone. After his regression to the mental state of a child, Methos kept him protected from the outside world. He knew he had been complacent with his martial arts training. He knew he wasn't ready.

       Closing his eyes, the Scot breathed in deeply, willing himself to relax. Making sure that his katana was inside his coat, he stepped out of his car and went inside the factory.

       Within, the Highlander cautiously inspected his surroundings, eyeing the huge equipment and the stacks of crates warily. A cat jumped from the rusting crane that he nearly cried out in surprise.

       Suddenly, the Buzz hit him. Having attuned himself to Methos' aura, the familiar yet unfamiliar sensation droned incessantly inside his brain. As he pulled out his sword, Sean's gleeful laughter pierced the air.

     _"SEAN!"_ shouted Duncan, heading in the direction of the baby's joyful cry.

       The Scot found himself near the large furnace, where a fire was blazing. Standing beside it was a brown-haired man. Unkempt, the man leered at him, revealing a gap between his teeth. In his arms, Sean was playing with a dirty glove.

       "I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he announced, taking out his sword and assuming a fight stance.

       "I know who you are," said the man, grinning. "I know a hell of a lot more about you than you think, thanks to those security cameras. But since you were so polite to introduce yourself, my name is Caleb Saunders."

       "I want no fight with you," Duncan said, though Caleb's comment made his skin crawl. "I just want my son back."

       "Well, I don't blame you! He's such a sweet little kid!" Caleb waved the dirty glove before Sean's face. The baby clapped his hands in glee.

       "All right, I'm here! What the hell do you want from me?"

       "Actually, we're only supposed to delay you a bit, while our boss takes your boyfriend's head."

       "Methos?" asked Duncan in shock. "Where is he?"

       "At the sulfur refinery next to this place. We'll just wait for the fireworks to fly and then we'll let you go. Of course, while we're waiting, that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun on the side." Giving the Highlander a thorough lookover, Caleb licked his lips suggestively. "You're one hot number, MacLeod!"

       Duncan gritted his teeth. "Give me my son, and I swear I'll do anything you want."

       "What do you think I am? Stupid? The minute you get a hold of this little angel here, you're going to kill me. Oh no, MacLeod. We'll play by my rules. Now, throw down your sword!"

       The Scot's grip tightened around the katana.

       But Caleb pulled out a dagger and raised it over the child's heart. "I said lay down your sword!"

       Remembering the two Immortals who had abused him, Duncan shook his head. "No, I swore to myself I would never let anyone touch me that way ever again."

       "I'll kill your son!"

       Duncan was at a loss on what to do, the desire for self-preservation warring against his love for Sean. It was Max Barrows who robbed him of his choice, pointing his broadsword at the Highlander's back.

       "He said drop it!" Max ordered.

       "That's my pal Max Barrows," introduced Caleb. "Better do what he says."

       Grudgingly, Duncan let his katana slip from his fingers, falling to the floor with a clang.

       Caleb laughed at the sight of the helpless man before him. "You don't give a shit about your little boy, do you? You'd rather save yourself than save him."

       "No, that's not true!" Duncan stepped forward, but Max laid his blade over the Highlander's throat. His sudden halt caused the Teddy Bear to fall out of his pocket.

       "Look, Caleb!" said Max, poking Teddy's belly with his toe before kicking it to his cohort. "He even brought his kid's ugly bear."

       Caleb picked Teddy up and waved it before Sean's eyes. "Hey, look, kid! Your mama brought you your toy!"

       "Please! If there's any compassion in you," Duncan begged earnestly, "give me back my son."

       "Haven't you seen how this kid looks at you?" Caleb commented. "After the way you've been leaving him all this time, I'd say your son hates you."

       "No! You're lying!"

       "Why don't you admit it, MacLeod?" Barrows piped in. "You love your missing kid more than this boy. If you did love him, you wouldn't leave him."

       "I love Sean!" Duncan declared, pushing Max angrily aside. "Damn you both! Give him back to me!"

       But as the Highlander reached for Sean, the baby threw a tantrum, screaming and flailing his tiny arms, refusing to let Duncan touch him. The Scot stared at the baby in disbelief. He thought the first time at the loft was just a coincidence. But now....

       "Sean, no!" whispered Duncan, tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't believe that the child rejected him.

       Caleb handed the baby to Max. Circling the distraught Highlander, he murmured, "He doesn't love you anymore, MacLeod. Your kid knows you don't care about him."

       "That's not true! I love him!" Duncan sobbed. "Stop saying all these lies!"

       "Then show him. Cooperate with us and we'll give him back to you."

       Though he already knew what the two Immortals desired, the Scot softly asked, "What do you want from me?"

       Duncan shuddered as a wet tongue licked his ear. His coat was yanked off his shoulders and down his arms.

       Taking the terrified Highlander in his embrace, Caleb whispered, "I'm sure we could think of something."

       Methos walked stealthily through the sulfur refinery, with only one thing on his mind – to do murder. He could not allow his mind to be distracted by thoughts of Duncan and Sean Richard. In his heart, he knew they were alive, and that the only way to get them back was to kill the man who ordered their abduction. Methos couldn’t help the smile that quirked up the corner of his mouth. Duncan’s sense of honor would have been piqued if he found out that his and his son’s salvation lay in the hands of the Horseman known as Death.

       “Funny you could still afford to smile at a time like this.” That sarcastic voice accompanied the unpleasant droning of Immortal aura.

       “I was hoping for a challenge,” replied Methos, just as snidely. “I never expected it would be you…Cassandra.”

       At these words, Cassandra emerged from behind a mound of sulfur, sword in hand. Her green eyes flashed daggers as she glared at the Old Man.

       “You never quit do you,” the ancient sneered at her.

       “I swore to myself that I will kill you,” Cassandra began solemnly, “and that’s what I’m going to do. You know, I should thank you for the opportunity. I happen to know the man who owns the detective agency from whom you bought those security cameras from. When he found out that I was a friend of Duncan MacLeod's, he was only too happy to let me take over surveillance at the loft.”

       “You went to all this trouble just for this? Why didn’t you just issue a challenge? I’d be very happy to oblige. You didn’t have to drag MacLeod and Sean into this.”

       “I don’t want Duncan to interfere. This is our fight!”

       “So you’re going to break your promise to him now, is that it? And what makes you think I’m going to let you take my head?”

       Cassandra waved her finger from side to side, grinning. “This way, I can’t lose. If you don’t surrender to me, my men will kill them. It’s that simple.”

       “What if I don’t surrender to you?”

       “It’s your choice.”

       Methos hesitated for a moment. “Where are they?”

       “Closer than you think. They’re at the old factory next to this place. If my men don’t hear from me…” Cassandra shrugged. “You know what will happen.”

       However, instead of the expected surrender, the ancient raised his sword. The seeress shook her head.

       “I knew this would be your choice,” said Cassandra regretfully. “You’ll never change, Methos. Once a Horseman, always a Horseman.”

       “Oh, I’ve changed all right, and I have Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod to thank for that. But you refuse to see it.”

       “Do you think I’m blind? Are you not betraying him right now, the same way you betrayed me centuries ago?”

       “There was nothing to betray,” Methos pointed the painful fact out to her. “You knew what I was, but that didn’t stop you from falling in love with me.”

       “That’s a lie!” Cassandra exclaimed, shocked by Methos’ words.

       “You fell in love with me, Cassandra!” the ancient repeated. “But I never loved you. Certainly not in the way I love Duncan.”

     _“LIAR!”_ screamed Cassandra as she lunged at Methos with her sword.

       "Hey, Caleb! What's taking you so long?"

       Behind the crates, Caleb answered, laughing, "I'm not finished yet!"

       "Damn it, man!" declared Max impatiently. "It's my turn!"

       "I said I'm not through yet!"

       He gazed up at the ugly man -- _Max?_ \-- holding him. A small voice inside him was telling him that something's wrong. He didn't like the smile on the man's face. And those sounds....

       In his mind, question marks flew back and forth. _What are those sounds? Who's crying? Where's my mama?_

       The man called Max seemed to read his mind as he stood up and went behind the stack of boxes. "Shit, Caleb!" Max exclaimed. "Leave some for me, will ya?"

       Caleb mumbled in bliss. "I never tasted anything so damned good, and he's such a sweet fuck too!"

       When the other man came into view, his eyes widened in shock. His mama was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against a crate. He wasn't wearing any clothes. The bald man was hugging his mother tightly. To his disgust, Caleb was nursing on his mama's puppies, when he himself has not experienced feeling those tiny buttons between his lips. His mother's head was bent back, eyes tightly shut, though tears leaked from the corners.

       A tiny part of him was happy to see his mama suffering. If he loved him, he wouldn't leave his precious baby with strange people or all alone at home. But his heart could not bear the sight of his mama's tears.

     _"CALEB!"_ he heard Max snap at the other man.

       "All right, all right!" Kissing his mother on those beautiful lips, Caleb reluctantly pulled away, yanking his pants up.

       He saw how his mama trembled all over, hands groping blindly for any cloth to cover his bodys. Instead, his fingers found the bear -- good ole Teddy. Clutching Teddy tightly to him, his mother pulled his legs, stained with that yucky red stuff, close to his body.

       "Here! My turn now!" said Max eagerly, handing him over to Caleb. "Looks like you did him hard!"

       "No, I didn't," Caleb countered defensively. "But I'm tellin' ya. I think he's had prior experience."

       "Damn!" cursed Max, clucking his tongue. "Next to that boyfriend of his, I was hoping we'd be first."

       Max strode towards his mama, nodding his head in approval. Seeing the bear, he snatched Teddy out of his mother's hands.

     _"TEDDY!"_ his mama cried, trying in vain to grab the toy back.

       "Aren't you too old for toys?" Max laughed, and he pitched the bear into the blazing furnace.

     _NO! TEDDY!_ He watched in horror as Teddy disappeared into the flames.

       Max grabbed his mama's hair, yanking his head back. The bad man licked the tears from his mother's cheeks.

       It was then that his mama saw him out of the corner of his eye, his lovely brown eyes widening in shock and shame.

       "No!" he heard his mother whisper. Turning to Caleb, he begged, "Please tell him to take my son away! I don't want him to see this!"

       Caleb grinned. "So what? He's going to learn this stuff sooner or later. He might as well start now."

       "Ashamed to have your little boy see his parent getting fucked?" Max said mockingly.

       "Please!" his mama wept. "He's just a child! I don't want him to see me like this!"

       "Enough with the talk!" shouted Max, pushing his mama down to the ground. He watched as the bad man pinned his mother, spreading those smooth thighs with his dirty hands.

       His mind could not understand what was happening, but there were angry voices -- voices of people who were a part of him -- telling him that what these men were doing to his mother was wrong. His mother was crying out in pain as Max began to jerk his body in quick, sharp thrusts.

       Then, his mama looked at him. He couldn't believe his mother could still be able to smile at him so gently, so reassuringly. Inside his head, he could hear his mama's feeble pleas.

     _Look away, Sean! Please!_ his mama begged him. _It'll be over in a few minutes. I'll be all right, you'll see. I can take it. I'll do anything they want, just to keep you safe. Because I love you, Sean. God, I love you so much!_

       The hatred vanished from his heart, to be replaced by anger towards the men hurting his mother.

       As he gazed into his mama's anguished eyes, Sean Richard thought, _&lt;I love you too, Mama! I won't let them hurt you anymore!&gt;_

       Duncan swore to himself that he would endure the pain and the shame of this new violation of his body. He had gone through this before. He could take it. But when Max brought his son, he felt his resolve begin to crumble. The evil Immortal had even thrown Teddy -- their stalwart protector -- into the furnace. When Caleb chose to stay and watch as Max raped him, with Sean in the evil Immortal's arms, those innocent, big brown eyes chipped away the little control he had left. This was worse than when Aric and Cyrus fucked him while he clung, weeping, to Methos' neck. Much worse. Though Sean was still an infant, there was something in the baby's eyes that told him the child knew what these men were doing to him.

     _&lt;Look away, Sean! Please!&gt;_ Inside his mind, he begged Sean, though he knew it was useless. Since the little boy was not his son by blood, there was no link connecting them, as would there be between a parent and his real children.

       As Max poured his release into the helpless Scot, the flair of pain overwhelmed Duncan. Yet, somehow, he heard a tiny voice whisper, _&lt;I love you!&gt;_

     _Methos is right,_ thought Duncan in despair. _These voices I've been hearing, my lost baby... It's all just a delusion. I AM going insane!_

       Feeling Max pull out of him, the Highlander eased himself up to a sitting position, trying in vain to shield his nakedness with his hands. But then, the Immortal grabbed his arms and slammed his back against the crates.

       "No, please don't!" Duncan whimpered, seeing those filthy, smacking lips easing down upon his chest.

       Suckling on the abused nipple, Max chuckled, "I could eat you alive!"

_        &lt;STOP IT!&gt; _

       That mental shout pierced Duncan's brain that blood gushed from his nostrils.

_        &lt;BAD MAN! STOP IT! STOP IT!&gt; _

       The Scot gasped, pressing his hands over his ears, though he knew he would still hear those angry cries. Opening his eyes, Duncan saw that there was a surprised look on Max's face. It was obvious to him that the Immortal heard that shout.

       Suddenly, the furnace began to rattle, the flames within rumbling and pulsing. As the three Immortals looked on, the metal door burst open with a loud bang, and a small burning figure flew out, landing easily on the scorched pads of its feet.

       "Teddy?" Duncan exclaimed in disbelief.

       Indeed, the bear stood before them, slowly being consumed by fire. The plastic buttons that were its eyes were melting away, forming black pools -- _dark hollows? _\-- on its face. Duncan blinked several times in shock, but his eyes were not fooling him. Indeed, the bear was moving, glaring first at Caleb and then at Max. Facing the Scot, Teddy pointed to his fallen sword, lying on the floor not too far from him. His burning ribbong loosened from his neck and fluttered into the air, landing right beside the katana's hilt.

       Duncan screamed in agony, as that mind voice screeched, _&lt;MY MAMA! MY PUPPIES! MINE! MINE! MINE!&gt;_ The force of that voice also had the same effect on the two men. Both cried out, putting their hands over their ears.

       "Sean!" cried Duncan, seeing Caleb drop the baby to the floor.

       Without thinking twice, the Highlander reached for his sword, his hand closing around both the hilt and Teddy's ribbon. Before Max could take the blade away from him, Duncan swung his katana in a wide arc and severed the Immortal's head in the blink of an eye.

       For a moment, there was silence. Then, the fireworks began to fly as the Highlander absorbed Max's Quickening, rushing into him as a blazing torrent of energy and loathsome memory images. But there was one memory that stunned him the most, the memory of the person who ordered these men to abduct them. When it was over, Duncan slumped down on his hands and knees, too weak to move. He did not even notice Caleb standing above him with sword in hand. Neither did the persistent rattling of metal against metal register inside his mind.

     _"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!"_ Caleb yelled, lifting his sword high.

     _&lt;NO!&gt;_ screamed that mind voice in fury, the rattling also getting louder. _&lt;YOU DIE!&gt;_

       Suddenly, there was a sharp report, like an amplified whip crack, as the large hook snapped free from its mooring on the crane. Swinging down on its steel cable, the sharp point of the hook pierced Caleb's neck, tearing off the Immortal's head.

       Duncan was stunned, seeing Caleb's head swinging on that hook before his eyes. Bracing himself for the inevitable, he feared what would happen when he took Caleb's Quickening, a mere few minutes after taking Max's essence.

       To his horror, however, the Highlander saw Sean Richard slowly rising into the air, surrounded by an unearthly glow. The baby was crying, the air around him crackling with the static of the build-up of the Quickening.

       Swiftly, Duncan got to his feet. As the Scot took the child into his arms, all hell broke loose. Bolts of lightning streaked through the building, striking everything in its path. The glass of the windows shattered all around them, raining shards upon them. There was a loud boom as the furnace exploded in a fiery blaze.

       Duncan, however, was unmindful of the destruction going on around him. To his horror, Caleb's Quickening was reaching for Sean, desperately wanting to merge with the baby in his embrace. Instead, Duncan opened himself to Caleb's Quickening, taking the wild energy into him. The raw power coursing through him was tearing him apart. The pain was much worse than when he had absorbed the evil within Jim Coltec. The two Quickenings seared his whole being, overloading his senses. To add to his despair, he confirmed in Caleb's memory the identity of the person who was responsible for his torment. Trying to ignore the agony of his ordeal, Duncan focused all his attention on the crying child in his arms, shielding Sean from the chaos around them. The Highlander knew he couldn't survive this.

       "I'm so sorry I haven't been a good parent to you, Sean," he whispered in deep remorse, his tears dripping down on the baby's face, mixing with Sean's tears. "But I love you! Sean, I'll always love you!"

       The sounds of explosions reached the refinery, causing the two battling Immortals inside to pause. Both stared in shock at the flashes of lightning in the sky.

       "Is this part of your plan, Cassandra?" Methos snarled at the stunned woman. "You couldn't wait until I was dead before you kill them?"

       "No, it isn't!" cried Cassandra defensively. "Believe me! I have no idea what happened in there!"

       "You damned bitch! This is the worst mistake you've ever made! Now that my lover and son are dead, nothing's going to stop me from killing you! _NOTHING!_"

       Shouting a fierce battle cry, Methos charged at Cassandra, driving her back with furious strokes and swings. The seeress retaliated, meeting his advance with countermoves of her own. But she was no match for the Horseman known as Death. Catching her off guard with a well-placed blow to the back of the neck, Methos stomped her sword to the ground with his foot.

       Laying the point of his Ivanhoe on the woman's throat, Methos muttered between clenched teeth, "Time for you to die, Cassandra!"

       Before he could bring his sword down, however, a small lightning bolt tore it out of his hand. Seizing the opportunity, Cassandra knocked the ancient down with a well-placed kick to the shin. Quickly, the seeress grabbed her sword and raised it, ready to take Methos' head.

       "STOP!" they both heard someone shout.

       Turning their heads in the direction of that cry, their eyes widened in shock at the sight they beheld.

       Before them was a swirling column of air and sulfur. Within the twister, suspended in mid-air, was Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. The Highlander was naked, his only covering the length of his coat that trailed from the small bundle he held in his arms. His long brown hair fluttered behind him as the twister carried him towards the two Immortals. Methos was horrified to see the bruises and the bloodstains on the Scot's thighs and legs. But what shocked him the most was the sight of those beautiful brown eyes glowing with a ghastly white light. With a gasp, Methos realized what had happened. His lover had taken the heads of his captors and was practically brimming with the Quickening. The raw energy was creating the twister that kept the Highlander aloft.

       Stopping before them, the twister of sulfur slowly settled down, easing Duncan to the ground.

       Duncan gazed at Cassandra, the look in his eyes a mixture of deep sorrow and disappointment. "I told you before, Cassandra. I want him to live. What did you not understand in what I told you?"

       "He deserves to die, Duncan!" the seeress argued, refusing to lower her sword. "You know the kind of man he is!"

       "You know the kind of man he _was_," stressed Duncan. "But I know the man he is now. The past is long gone. The people you loved are dead. Methos has changed. When are you going to stop living in the past? When is it going to be over?"

       "It will be over when I kill the man who destroyed my life!"

       The light faded from the Highlander's eyes, leaving the soft glimmer of tears. "If you kill Methos, then you will ruin my life as well and that of my son Sean. You've actually gotten off to a very good start, Cassandra. Can't you see what your men have done to me?"

       It was only then that the seeress looked closely at the Scot. Her mouth dropped open in shock, seeing the dark bruises on Duncan's body and the blood between his legs.

       "Duncan, I..." she began, not knowing what to say. "I didn't order them to do this to you. You know I could never hurt you."

       "But you're not the Cassandra I knew when I was still a boy. What I see before me now is a petty, selfish, manipulating woman who cares not for the pain she causes others." Duncan's jaw hardened. "Go on, Cassandra! Kill Methos! But you'd better be damned ready to use that sword on me as well."

       "What?"

       The Highlander got down on his knees. "Methos is the other half of my soul. I cannot live without him." Carefully, he laid the bundle he held on the floor before him. The two Immortals saw Sean Richard sleeping within the Scot's coat, Teddy's ribbon clenched in a tiny fist. "When we're gone, you could do me one last favor. I want you to take Sean back to Seacouver Orphanage."

       Feebly, Cassandra suggested, "I...I could take care of Sean for you."

       "NO!" Duncan gazed at her sharply. "I will not have my son raised by a monster like you!" Draping his long hair over his left shoulder, the Scot bared his neck. "Take our heads, Cassandra! Have your revenge! Let it all end here!"

       It seemed as if an eternity passed for the two Immortals as they waited for the killing strokes. Instead, Cassandra fell to her knees, dropping her sword.

       "I can't!" Cassandra sobbed, trembling. "I can't do it!"

       Methos grabbed her sword, laying the sharp edge over her neck. "If you can't, I most certainly could."

       But Duncan shouted, "Methos, no!"

       "Damn it, Duncan! She deserves to die! I cannot let her live, especially after what her men did to you!"

       "I have nothing more to lose, Methos. You know that. My...it was taken from me months back." Duncan's voice nearly choked as he whispered, "I'll survive." He picked up Sean and hugged him as he began to weep.

       Grudgingly, Methos lowered the sword. With a dismissing gesture of his head, he said, "I want you to go, Cassandra. Leave us. You've done enough damage."

       "But Duncan's hurt!" Cassandra argued, raising her hand to the weeping Scot. "I'm a healer! I can help!"

       The ancient embraced his lover protectively. "Don't you dare touch him! In case you've forgotten, you've forsaken your calling when you pursued the path of vengeance."

       Grief-stricken, Cassandra got to her feet. Sheathing her sword, she murmured, "I'm so sorry this happened, Duncan. Believe me, I never wanted them to hurt you."

       "I guess you've forgotten that in any war, in any act of revenge, it's always the innocent who suffer." Duncan closed his eyes, refusing to look at the woman who was once his protector. "Go away, Cassandra! Please leave us in peace! Don't ever bother us again!"

       "Will you ever forgive me?" she asked timidly.

       "Perhaps someday, but not now. After what happened to me, I don't think I could find it in my heart to forgive you."

       Cassandra's shoulders dropped in sorrow as she walked away.

       When she was gone, Methos caressed Duncan's brow with his fingers, feeling the static bite of the Quickening flowing through his lover's body.

       "Let me drive," Methos began. "I'll just come back tomorrow to pick up the T-Bird."

       "It's all right. I can manage," was the Highlander's soft reply, barely looking at the Old Man.

       The ancient raised his hands to the baby in Duncan's arms. "Let me take care of Sean for you."

       "No!" Duncan hugged the child close as he shook his head. "I'm not going to be parted from my son ever again!"

       "All right, Duncan," the ancient said gently. "Let's go home."

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

**CHAPTER SIX**

 

        After retrieving their swords, the two Immortals drove back to the Dojo. Parking their cars, Methos hurried to Duncan's side.

       Seeing the sleeping baby in the Highlander's arms, he asked, "Let me carry him." But Duncan shook his head, refusing to let go of Sean.

       Instead, Methos placed his arm around his lover, giving him support as they went up to the loft. While Duncan placed Sean in his crib, the ancient methodically ripped the security cameras off the walls. Many times, Methos would catch Duncan looking at him. The fear in those chocolate brown eyes was unmistakable, and Methos could not understand why the Scot would be afraid. When he was done, he stole a glance at the Scot. The younger Immortal was seated on the floor, rocking the crib gently, as he hummed a lullaby.

       Seeing the bloodstains on Duncan's legs peeking from under his coat, Methos went into the bathroom and filled the tub with warm water. When he came out, the Highlander was still in the same place he had left him. The Old Man laid a gentle hand on the Scot's shoulder. His lover gave him a questioning look.

       "Come with me," Methos answered softly, smiling in reassurance.

       The young man nodded and allowed Methos to help him to his feet. Taking Duncan's hand, the ancient started to lead him towards the bathroom.

       Seeing where Methos was taking him, however, Duncan yanked his hand out of the Old Man's grasp, shaking his head.

       "Duncan?" Methos stared at him, aghast.

       "Methos, I'm sorry, but I did what I had to do!" sobbed the Highlander, inching away from his lover as he pulled his coat close. "I had to save Sean! I didn't have a choice!"

       "I know that, Duncan. I'm not angry with you."

       The Highlander fled to the other side of the bed before the ancient could get near, cowering in the far corner. "Oh, yes you are! You're angry with me because I gave my body to someone else, just like the first time. I didn't want to do it, believe me! I didn't want to be hurt that way again! The last thing I wanted was for those two Immortals to fuck me the way Aric and Cyrus had!"

       Methos felt the tears welling up in his eyes as he cautiously approached the weeping, cringing figure by the bed. The Old Man was shocked to see that the Scot was glowing with the white light of the two Quickenings he had absorbed. His distress was agitating the strong energies coursing through his body. Methos feared what it might do to his lover.

       "It's not your fault!" Methos insisted. "It's Cassandra who's to blame for what has happened to you. You had to save Sean. I would have done the same if I were in your place."

       "No, you wouldn't!" Duncan cried in anguish.

       "Duncan," the ancient began gently, "please be calm! I told you I'm not mad at you!"

       "You're so smart, Uncle Adam!" the Highlander continued babbling, regressing to the state of mind of Angel. "You would have known what to do! I'm just stupid old Angel who can't think of anything else except having strangers fuck him!"

       Methos stood above the terrified Scot. "That's not true!"

       Duncan clung tightly to the leg of the night table, pupils dilated with fear. "You're going to beat me! Please don't hurt me, Uncle Adam! I swear I won't do it again!"

       At that cry, Methos felt his blood run cold, realizing why his lover was acting strangely. His mind brought him back to the cabin on the island -- remembering how he had flown into a rage when he discovered Duncan had allowed Aric and Cyrus to rape him, in order that he would know how to love his Uncle Adam. As tears trickled down his cheeks, Methos remembered how he had beaten the terrified young man, driven him into a state of catatonia. How it had broken his heart to see his Angel curled up beneath the sink, sweet doe eyes leaking with tears, while he suckled his thumb. Seeing the position of his lover, Methos feared that he might drive Duncan back into that insensate state.

       Before the younger man could flee, Methos snatched him off the floor. Duncan struggled in his arms, screaming and wailing in terror. Swiftly, the Old Man carried his lover into the bathroom and locked the door before the Highlander's cries could wake up their sleeping child. Gently, Methos set the distraught Scot down into the tub.

       Curling up into a ball, Duncan covered his head with his hands, crying over and over again, "Don't hurt me again, Uncle Adam! I swear I'll be good!"

       Methos stared in horror as the water in the tub began to churn, warm steam rising up from it. Seeing the Highlander's skin turning red, the ancient feared that his lover would be boiled alive. He had to act fast.

       Without thinking twice, Methos stepped into the scalding water and embraced Duncan, rocking him gently as he kissed his fevered brow.

       "I love you, Angel!" he murmured over and over again. "I love you very much! Uncle Adam won't hurt you!"

       For hours, the two men stayed inside the tub, with Methos comforting his lover. He didn't even notice that the furious churning of the water had died down, leaving tiny waves of lukewarm water lapping against their bodies. It was close to midnight when Methos pulled away to gaze into Duncan's reddened eyes. The young man's body was hitching with his sobs.

       Seeing how wet they were with the bloodstained water, Methos burst into relieved laughter. "God, we're such a mess!"

       In reply, Duncan smiled apprehensively.

       The ancient stood up from the tub and peeled off his sodden clothes. Draining the bloodied water, Methos hastened to refill the tub with clean water.

       "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" he told the Highlander cheerfully.

       Methos took great care in cleansing his lover's body. With a soft towel, he gently wiped away the traces of the Scot's defilement. Duncan, on the other hand, just looked at the older man, meekly obeying his orders to stand or to sit inside the tub.

       With much hesitation, Duncan whispered, "Methos, thank you for not bringing Sean back to the orphanage."

       "You know I could never do that. I was just upset at that time, about what happened. All I wanted was for you to realize how important Sean is to me and, hopefully, for you too. I never thought this could happen. Duncan, I'm sorry. That was a very cruel thing to do."

       "You're not angry with me now? Everything that's happened...it's not my fault?"

       The ancient shook his head. "What happened to you before and now, you're not to blame. That first time in the cabin... You don't know how much I regretted what I did to you. All I thought about were my own selfish needs and desires. I was no different than Aric and Cyrus. I guess I was much worse than them. You wanted so much to show me how much you loved me. Instead, for your sacrifice, I hurt you very badly. Oh, Duncan! Could you forgive me for the many times I have wounded your heart? I've been so damned selfish, I didn't see the pain I was causing you."

       "I told you before. I'll always forgive you, because I love you." Duncan lowered his head in shame. "I've been very selfish too. The way I've been doing things behind your back, keeping secrets, neglecting Sean... I'm so sorry, Methos."

       "You just wanted to find our missing child."

       The Highlander breathed in deeply. "There is no child. I know that now. It was all just a delusion."

       "But Duncan, what about Anne's examination? Nick Wolfe's investigation?"

       "It's just a freak coincidence. I'm a man and an Immortal. I could never have a child."

       "But what if you're wrong? What if we do have a baby out there?"

       "Let's not think about it anymore. This obsession nearly cost me Sean's life. Though he is not of my blood, you're right. Sean is my son. My _only_ son."

       Methos nodded his head. "I understand."

       For a few minutes, there was silence between the two men.

       Then, Duncan slowly leaned forward and kissed Methos shyly on the lips.

       "Duncan," the ancient breathed out, feeling his lover nibble and tease his lips, "are you sure you want to do this?"

       "Yes," was the Highlander's soft reply, "because I want to forget what they did to me. I want you to show me that it doesn't have to hurt or make me feel filthy. I want to feel loved, Methos, not like I'm some kind of plaything."

       The Old Man smiled as he stepped into the tub with his lover. It did not surprise him to see the aching erection between the Scot's legs. With two Quickenings inside him, Duncan was aroused to a fever pitch. But Methos was determined to make it easy for the younger man.

       With his soft lips, Methos rained kisses on the Highlander's flushed cheeks, slowly going down to his graceful neck and shoulder. His mouth descended to the broad chest, enveloping a turgid nipple. The sweet milk flooded his mouth in a delightful torrent, and he rubbed the swollen breast with his palms to draw more of the nectar out. As he moved from one nipple to the other, Methos took a deep breath and began suckling out some of the raw energy flowing through his lover. Duncan's juices, combined with the intense bite of the Quickening, filled him with an unquenchable hunger.

       Methos' hand groped for Duncan's cock, massaging the shaft. Then, he sank his full weight upon the rod, causing the Scot to gasp in surprise. Moaning in bliss, he milked Duncan's erection with his ass, drawing more of the Quickening out. When he climaxed, Methos' mind exploded in a kaleidoscope of color.

       "Methos?" he heard Duncan whimper, feeling the younger man squeezing his cock.

       As Methos eased off his lover, Duncan turned over onto his knees, his hands gripping the edge of the tub. The Old Man hesitated, seeing that circular orifice still open, blooming like a red rose, with droplets of blood instead of dew.

       Methos' voice was strained with repressed desire as he spoke, "Duncan, I can't do this!"

       "Yes, you can," murmured Duncan, his voice husky with anticipation. "Do this for me."

       Covering the Highlander's body with his own, Methos slid into his lover's opening in one smooth glide, the tip of his cock striking the gland. At that contact, Duncan cried out as his body exploded in tiny waves of pleasure.

       With infinite tenderness, Methos took his young lover. His strokes measured, he pulled in the excess Quickening with every withdrawal from Duncan's bruised rosebud.

       Feeling the tumult inside him easing, Duncan asked, "Methos?"

       "It's all right, love," the ancient reassured him, kissing the Scot's nape. "You'll feel better, believe me."

       Methos felt more than heard the Highlander's assent. Duncan bucked against his lover's burgeoning erection, pouring the Quickening into the Old Man's body.

       When they orgasmed, both men screamed in ecstasy. As Methos filled Duncan's body with his essence, the Quickening zipped back and forth between them, gradually stabilizing, decreasing in intensity.

       Sated and exhausted, the Highlander slumped down into the tub, Methos' flaccid sex sliding out of him. The ancient quickly drained the bathtub before the Scot could relax completely into the water. Standing on shaky legs, Methos dried himself with a towel and donned a bathrobe. He couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips, seeing Duncan fast asleep in the tub.

       Wrapping his lover up in a large towel, Methos carried Duncan to the bed. Removing his robe, he snuggled beside the sleeping Scot, pulling the comforter over their moist, naked forms. Embracing the Highlander, Methos kissed the younger man and drifted off into slumber as well.

_         Duncan was crying in the darkness, feeling the hated penetration of his body. _

_         "No!" he whimpered, his hands groping for the fiend that was violating his flesh. "Stop it! Please! No more!" _

        _In the darkness, someone pleaded,_ &lt;Don't hurt my Mama! Please don't hurt him!&gt;

_         "It's all right, Duncan. You've been through this before," a soothing voice answered. "Just hold on. It will be over soon." _

_         A scream escaped Duncan's lips as his lower belly was scoured with agonizing thoroughness. The Scot thought that he would pass out from the pain. But as that familiar voice said, thankfully, it was over soon enough. _

_         Gazing down, Duncan saw glittering sand fly out from between his legs and enter a large jar held by a very dear friend. Before the jar disappeared into the darkness, the Scot noticed that it now contained four tiny humans instead of just two. _

_         "Hello, Duncan!" Teddy greeted him. The toy looked much worse for wear. Portions of his patchwork body were scorched. His button eyes had melted into two tear-shaped globs of plastic. "I missed you!" _

_         The Highlander ran towards the bear and swept Teddy up in a joyous hug. "Oh, Teddy! I thought I'd never see you again!" Within the pocket of his robe, Duncan produced the charred satin ribbon. "I was only able to save this. I'm sorry." _

_         "You did all you could," said Teddy, as Duncan lovingly tied the ribbon around his neck. "I'm the one who should apologize. Some protector I turned out to be." _

_         "Don't say that, Teddy! If you hadn't distracted those two men, lord only knew what else they could have done to me and Sean." _

_         "I don't want to take all the credit. Someone gave me the push I needed so I could assist." _

_         A frown formed on Duncan's brow. "I don't understand." _

_         The bear gave the Highlander his enigmatic grin. "My dear Duncan! You always search so hard for that which is right under your very nose." _

_         Duncan shook his head in confusion. "Teddy, you're not making any sense." _

_         "You'll know soon enough." Teddy looked at the Scot in sorrow. "Time for me to go!" _

_         "No! You can't!" gasped Duncan. He embraced the bear tightly, refusing to let go. "Teddy, you promised you will always be here for me and Sean." _

_         "But, Duncan, you won't need me anymore. You now have someone who will look after you." _

_         "Are you talking about Methos?" Tears began to stream down the Highlander's cheeks as he hugged the toy. "Please don't leave me, Teddy! I don't know what I'll do without you!" _

       _The bear was about to argue when that plaintive voice he heard earlier suddenly interrupted,_ &lt;Teddy, don't go! Please? Pretty please?&gt;

_         Teddy sighed. "I should have known these two are not going to make it easy for me to say goodbye," he muttered under his breath. _

_         "What did you say?" Duncan let his eyes roam around the darkness, hoping he could make out even a dim outline of the speaker. "And who was that?" _

_         "Supposed to be your new protector," Teddy said wryly. With an exasperated snort, he declared, "You two are such babies!" _

_         The bear leaped out of the Highlander's arms, landing on the floor. To Duncan's dismay, Teddy started walking away, heading for the light that was suddenly visible in the distance. _

_         "Teddy, no!" Duncan called out, hand raised to the toy. _

_         "I'm going to check with my boss," said Teddy with a wave of his paw. The Scot saw something fluttering towards him. Catching it, he found himself holding the charred ribbon. _

_         “You're going to come back?" asked Duncan hopefully.  "Teddy, please say you will." _

_         "It's all up to my boss. If he wills it... Well, I'll just pop up one of these days. In the meantime, you two hold the fort for me while I'm gone." _

           Two? _Duncan raced after the bear, but Teddy vanished. "Two?" he shouted into the darkness. "What are you talking about? I don't understand. Are you talking about me and Methos?"_

_         Teddy's voice seemed to echo all around him as he replied, laughing, "Of course not! I mean you and your son!" _

       "Teddy, wait! Come back!"

       "Duncan? Duncan! Wake up! You're dreaming!"

       The Highlander slowly opened his eyes to find Methos looking down at him. "Methos!" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles. "God! What time is it?"

       "8:30 a.m."

       Duncan quickly sat up. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner? I could have made you breakfast. And Sean...."

       "Don't worry," Methos reassured him. "I already gave Sean his milk."

       Not convinced, the Scot hastened to the crib. He breathed in relief, seeing Sean rocking on his back, tinkering with his toes. Gazing up, Sean gurgled with delight when he saw Duncan. At once, the baby reached up to the Highlander. To Duncan's surprise, he saw that tangled in Sean's hand was Teddy's ribbon.

       Duncan picked the baby up and bussed him on the nose. "So you miss Teddy too, huh?"

       "Where is Teddy anyway?" queried Methos. "I haven't seen that smug bear anywhere."

       The Scot pressed his cheek to Sean's. "Teddy's gone, Methos. Max Barrows threw him into the furnace."

       "I'm sorry," the ancient whispered, shaking his head in sorrow at the loss. "I know how important Teddy is to you."

       Duncan remembered his dream, and how Teddy had cleansed him of the filth that had tainted his body.

      _"If he wills it, I'll just pop up one of these days,"_ the bear had told him.

      _Please come back to us, Teddy!_ the Highlander prayed earnestly, cuddling Sean close. _We need you!_


	7. Chapter 7

 

** CHAPTER SEVEN **

In the days that followed, Duncan focused all his attention on Sean, hoping that he could forget the events of the past weeks. But the dream continued to haunt him.

       One day, while dressing up after finishing his shower, the Scot found himself recalling Teddy's parting words to him. _"You two hold the fort for me while I'm gone. I mean, you and your son!"_

      _What was Teddy trying to tell me?_ the Highlander mused. _Was he talking about Sean? Maybe it was just his way of saying that we're still father and son, even though Sean's adopted._

       As if on cue, Sean started to cry inside his crib.

       Duncan took the weeping child in his arms. "Are you hungry, little guy?" He picked up the bottle of milk he had prepared on the counter and carried the baby to the rocking chair. Sitting down, Duncan pressed the nipple to Sean's lips. But the baby shut up as tight as a clam.

       "Come on, Sean!" cajoled Duncan. "Don't be so difficult. I know you're hungry."

       Sean, however, shook his head stubbornly.

       Father and son stared at each other.

       "What am I going to do with you?" the Highlander asked the child in his embrace.

       To the Scot's surprise, Sean's hand scrunched up Duncan's shirt above his chest. The child turned his head and rooted greedily on the tiny prominence visible through his shirt.

       "Oh no you don't!" the Highlander cried, pulling Sean away. "My milk is not for you!"

       At these words, Sean flew into a tantrum, arms flailing and legs kicking. Tears streamed down his flushed, pudgy cheeks.

       "Ssshhh! Don't cry, Sean!" Duncan rocked the baby, trying to feed him again. "Just give this a little taste. This is much better for you, believe me!"

       Sean, however, kicked the bottle out of the Highlander's hand.

       Not knowing what to do, Duncan called up Methos at the university.

       “Pierson here," he heard his lover answer.

       "Adam, it's me!" The Scot was practically shouting, straining to be heard above the baby's din.

       Methos burst into laughter. "Looks like you've got your hands full!"

       "Very funny!" Duncan commented in sarcasm. "Were you able to buy that new baby formula for Sean? I can't find it anywhere."

       "I thought you did."

       "No, I did not. I told you to pick some up at Markum's."

       "I forgot. Is Sean being fussy? I mean, he's not that way with me when I fed him the old formula. He actually liked the stuff."

       "What old formula? We ran out of milk two days ago! When I couldn't find the milk I asked you to get, I had to buy a new can today."

       "What are you talking about? You've been leaving filled milk bottles on the dining table every morning. I just heat them up."

       Duncan's jaw dropped. "Where did you say you found the milk bottles?"

       "On the dining table," Methos repeated. "Is anything wrong?"

       The Highlander couldn't speak, recalling how, for the past few days, he would wake up with pain in his chest. He had ended up drawing milk from his nipples very early in the morning, right at the dining table, and then go back to bed. When he woke up later in the day, he would find the bottles gone. Duncan had assumed that Methos had washed them and filled them with baby formula.

       "Mac? Are you there?" the ancient interrupted his thoughts. "Is everything all right?"

       Duncan scratched his head in confusion. "I'm not sure. I'll talk to you when you get home."

       "All right! Before I forget, Mac, I've got a big surprise for you! I can't wait for you to see it!"

       "Uh, yeah. Okay."

       "Listen, don't worry about it," Methos reassured him. "Just buy him the old formula. Better yet, I'll buy a big can after class. What do you say?"

       "Yeah, Methos. Sure. Whatever you say."

       "I'll see you later then. Bye!"

       "Bye!" the Scot answered, and he heard a soft click on the other end.

       Hanging up, Duncan gazed down to find Sean staring innocently at him, his tiny lips rooting once more on the small nub straining against his shirt. Probably noting his stare, the baby gave the Highlander his patented toothless grin.

       "All right, Sean! You win!" Groaning, Duncan unbuttoned his shirt halfway and yanked the left sleeve down his arm, baring his chest. Flustered with embarrassment, he gingerly pressed Sean's face to his nipple, grumbling, "If you get colic or worse, I'm taking you straight to Anne. Damn that Old Man! He should have asked me first. How long have you been drinking my milk anyway?"

       The Highlander never expected to receive a reply to that query. But as soon as Sean latched on eagerly to his nipple, a small voice answered inside his head, _&lt;Don't know! Don't care! Yummy milk! Love it!&gt;_

       Shocked, Duncan nearly dropped the baby, but Sean clung tightly to his chest with his right hand while his gums clenched painfully on his tit.

       "Owww! Why'd you do that for?" cried the Scot, easing the child away from his breast. He glowered at the baby. "And why am I talking to you anyway? I'm just hallucinating again!"

       Sean let out a displeased sneeze at that retort. Twisting his body to the side, his lips clamped hard on the Highlander's nipple, suckling greedily.

      _&lt;Hungry!&gt;_ the voice said plaintively. _&lt;Please? Want yummy milk from nice little puppies. Please? Pretty please?&gt;_

       At those gentle pleas, Duncan stared at the baby in stunned silence. He tentatively asked inside his mind,_&lt;Sean? Are you the one talking to me? Is it really you?&gt;_

_ &lt;Yes.&gt; _

_ &lt;But...but... How is this possible? For me to be able to hear your thoughts, we must be connected in someway. But you're not...&gt; _

       The Highlander couldn't finish what he was going to say as Teddy's last words came to him.

      _"You two hold the fort for me while I'm gone,"_ the bear had told him. _"You and your son!"_

       "Oh my God!" Duncan gasped, tears of joy welling up in his eyes.

      _&lt;Hello, Mama!&gt;_ Sean greeted cheerfully.

       Methos arrived at the Dojo, whistling merrily, to find Nick Wolfe about to go inside.

       "Hi!" the ancient greeted. "What can I do for you?"

       Nick smiled and extended his hand. "I'm here to see Duncan MacLeod. My name's Nick Wolfe."

       "Amanda's friend -- the detective?" Methos shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last. I'm Adam Pierson."

       An embarrassed grin formed on Nick's face. "Amanda told me about you. I was expecting someone..."

       "Who looks a hell of a lot older? I always get that from people once they find out who I really am. They think I'm a doddering old geezer."

       Hearing this, Nick laughed. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm sorry."

       "No, it's quite all right. Amanda's right in trusting you with our secret. It's rather...difficult...for us to find good friends. You would do well to remember that."

       "Oh, I will! Believe me I will!"

       Nick did not notice the meaningful glance the ancient accorded him.

       "You're a good man, Nick," said Methos truthfully. "We need more men like you."

       A deep flush went up the detective's cheeks. "I don't know exactly what you mean by that, but...well...I'm flattered."

       "You've been a great help to Duncan. I really appreciate all that you've done for him. Things have been rather hard for Mac."

       "A missing child could do that to any parent." It was then that Nick noticed the thing Methos held in his hand. "Is that Teddy?"

       Methos raised the patchwork bear he bought at an antique store. It looked exactly like Teddy -- same black button eyes, same pug nose, same smug grin. However, unlike the old toy, this bear was wearing trousers made of MacLeod tartan. It even had suspenders and a rather stupid-looking green bowtie.

       "No, I bought him at a store," explained the Old Man. "Duncan lost Teddy a few days ago."

       "It's a nice gesture, but aren't you afraid Duncan might take it the wrong way? I mean, you know there can be only one Teddy."

       Methos grimaced. "Very funny!" Sighing, he fixed the bear's bowtie. "When I saw this bear, I couldn't get my eyes off him. He has that same kind of magic Teddy had. Call me crazy but I knew this bear is Teddy."

       Nick shrugged, thinking it was just a quirk of Immortals. "If you say so. Anyway, I'm glad you're here. I have some news that I'm sure you and Mac would love to hear."

       The ancient gave the detective a quizzical glance, but decided not to pry. He would know soon enough.

       However, when the two men entered the loft, the sight that greeted them caught them by surprise. In his shock, the bear dropped out of Methos' hands.

       "Oh, Methos! You found Teddy!" Duncan exclaimed happily from his comfortable position on the rocking chair. Gazing down at the child suckling at his breast, he said, "Sean, it's Teddy! He's come back to us!" He looked at the ancient reproachfully. "Methos, you're not going to leave Teddy lying on the floor, are you?"

       Although bewildered, the Old Man picked up the toy and handed it to the Highlander. Duncan waved the bear before the baby's eyes.

       "Look, Sean! Doesn't Teddy look dapper?"

       Unable to control his curiosity any longer, Methos asked, "Mac, what are you doing?"

       "Feeding my baby. What does it look like I'm doing?"

       "I could see that, but he's not supposed to..."

       "Any reason why he shouldn't? For the past few days, you've been feeding him with my milk."

       "I what?"

       Nick's mouth dropped open in sudden realization.

       Grinning, he remarked, "I guess you already know."

       A radiant smile formed on the Highlander's face. "Yes, I do."

       "Know what?" Methos looked at the two men with suspicion. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

       "I'm sure Duncan told you about Bill Potter," Nick began.

       "Yeah! So?"

       "Potter said that he heard a baby crying inside the warehouse after the two mysterious men left. He called 911 and an ambulance picked the child up. Well, I was able to trace where the paramedics took the baby."

       "Where?" the ancient queried. Already, he could feel his heart thumping rapidly in suspense.

       "Seacouver Orphanage. Three days later, on Christmas Eve, the child -- a baby boy -- was fostered to a gay couple in the city. They proved to be great parents for the kid, and the orphanage accepted their petition to adopt the child."

       Duncan saw how Methos' face brightened.

       "Are you trying to tell me that..." The Old Man's voice was choked with emotion.

       "I think I'd better let him tell you." Duncan opened up his mind and his heart to his lover, easily finding the link between them.

       He could barely contain his laughter, seeing Methos' expression change from joy to chagrin when Sean Richard giggled, _&lt;Hello, Daddy Big Nose! TEE HEE HEE!&gt;_

       "Methos, stop it! That tickles!" the Scot cried breathlessly.

       "I never figured you to be the ticklish type," said Methos as he ran feathery light fingers over the Highlander's bare flanks, causing Duncan to giggle and twist among the sheets.

       "Methos, stop! We'll wake up the baby!"

       "No, we won't."

       "Yes, we will."

       "No, we won't. Besides, he won't see us anyway through this thing." He waved his hand to the beautiful oriental silk screen divider at the foot of the bed. When Methos saw the divider at the mall, he didn't think twice about buying it. He figured it was a good investment, according him and the Highlander some much needed privacy.

_ &lt;???????&gt; _

       Feeling that mental tap, Duncan pouted at his lover. "You spoke too soon. Sean? Why aren't you asleep?"

_ &lt;Noisy. Teddy can't sleep too.&gt; _

       "I'm so sorry, sweetheart! You and Teddy can go back to sleep now. We'll keep quiet."

_ &lt;Whatcha doing?&gt; _

       Duncan fell silent at this query.

       Methos looked at his lover. "What did he say?"

       "He wants to know what we're doing?"

       The ancient sighed. "Sean, you're too young to know about this stuff. Maybe when you're a hell of a lot older, like when you're able to put on your own diaper, or better yet, when you can grow a beard, I'll explain everything to you."

       But Sean persisted, _&lt;Whatcha doing? Making a baby?&gt;_

       Duncan almost choked at those questions.

       "What is he asking now?"

_ &lt;Baby brother?&gt; _

       "Sean," the Scot began, "go to sleep."

_ &lt;Little sister perhaps?&gt; _

       "SEAN!"

       "What's he asking?" repeated Methos.

       "He wants a baby brother or maybe a little sister."

_ &lt;YES! YES!&gt; _

       Methos grinned. "You really want a baby brother or sister? I think that could be arranged."

       "Stop putting ideas into his head, Methos."

_ &lt;No brother? No sister? *sniff*&gt; _

       Duncan felt the disappointment in that sweet mind voice.

       "Oh, Sean! I really want to give you what you want. But...but..." He rubbed his aching breast. "I really don't think I could handle three mouths to feed right now."

_ &lt;Bad Daddy! Always sharing Mama's puppies with baby!&gt; _

       The Highlander laughed at that remark.

       Methos scowled at his lover. "Do you have any intention of letting me join in on the conversation?"

       At this query, the ancient clearly heard Sean exclaim,_&lt;MY MAMA HAS THE BEST PUPPIES IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!&gt;_

       Duncan gasped, feeling his lover nip the tiny bud.

       "Sean, my boy," Methos mumbled in bliss, "I couldn't agree with you more!"

 

**CONTINUED IN _THE TEDDY BEAR TALES 4: THE SOUND OF ANGEL'S WINGS_**

 


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